Nothing I Would Not Do Or Be
by BluePeople
Summary: Whatever happens, Alfred can deal with it.  For Sarah.   R/R!  Somehow this appears to be becoming Herbert/Alfred, which was totally not the original plan.  Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****The original plot bunny for this story arose because Krisha's Alfred was so competent and patient getting the professor ready for bed that I kept thinking: jeez, I need a servant like that. ****However, even though I mostly had the Stuttgart cast in mind writing this, I am *not* envisioning those ridiculous spandex pants for von Krolock. Let's all imagine him into his Budapest or revivalvienna outfits instead. **

* * *

Alfred knocked where Koukol directed him, but looked back once more. "Are you sure he wants me to-?"

"Guuhrn," said Koukol. _Go in._

Before Alfred could ask any more questions the count spoke up from inside. "I'm waiting, Alfred."

He pushed the door open and stepped in, as firmly as he could. He was ready. They had bargained like equals tonight, reached a solution, shaken hands… and now it was time to deliver what he'd promised: one year, in exchange for Sarah's immediate expulsion, unbitten, from the castle. One year, during which he would be a servant but well-treated, at the count's beck and call but off-limits to his son, subject to polite requests for blood but never bitten without permission. The terms were quite generous, really, considering he was getting Sarah's safety in return. For that he would have paid any price.

So he was just going to have to get used to dealing with a vampire, that was all. He set his jaw and came forward. "Um… hello?" He was horrified to hear that his voice came out as a cracking squeak. "You wanted to see me?" he said to the count's back.

"My servants call me _sir _or _Master," _the count said placidly, without turning around.

"Oh- yes sir. Sorry sir." Alfred came a bit closer. "You wanted me?"

Von Krolock turned to face him then, spread his arms wide and waited.

"Er." Was he supposed to give the vampire a _hug_? Alfred came closer until they were just inches apart. "Um. What do you…?"

With a quick haughty tilt of his chin von Krolock explained: "I've seen how you care for that old man you travel with, Alfred, and I want similar treatment. Not because I'm infirm, but because I am lazy and I enjoy being pampered. Begin."

Alfred jumped and couldn't believe how stupid he was today. Of course the count didn't want a hug. He wanted to be undressed. Much better, that. Much less creepy.

First he fumbled for the buttons of von Krolock's waistcoat, undoing them as fast as his fingers could move. "Of course, of course, I can do that. Will you want it every day- er, night? Because, I mean, I can just come in, or you can call for me, either way is fine, I suppose it depends where I'll be sleeping, you know, whatever's most convenient." He was bent almost double now, amazed at how many buttons there were. "Here, here, sorry, almost done, sorry." He had to kneel to get at the last few rows, and as he finished up he laughed a little and said, "No wonder you want help with this thing."

"I like my servants silent, Alfred."

"Oh! Sorry… sir." _Master _still tasted a little strange in his mouth.

He rose and worked the topcoat off von Krolock's shoulders, and laid it carefully on the bed. The _bed_. He hadn't even noticed it before. "But I thought you slept in the- oh-… Sorry." He shut his mouth under von Krolock's stare and took the waistcoat off next, sweeping the count's hair back from his shoulders into a single neat cascade as he did. He managed _that _much silently, at least, but then had to ask, "Where's your hairbrush? I mean- that is, if you want me to-."

"Over there."

"Right, all right, thanks, sorry." He fetched it fast and went to work, glad to see that the count's hair was not very tangley. He thought it would have made a bad impression if he had started yanking and hurting on his very first day of work.

But the count was so tall that Alfred couldn't really see what he was doing. "Will you sit, sir?" he said, almost in a whisper. He was _trying _to be quiet! It's just they hadn't figured out a routine yet, that was all. Of course once he got used to things it would all go much smoother.

Von Krolock sighed and sat down on the bed – but that wasn't much better, because now Alfred couldn't get behind him unless he wanted to crawl up onto the bed himself, which he probably shouldn't. Instead he just brushed awkwardly from the side, until the hair fell smooth and shining, and then he set the brush down straight away and knelt to do the boots.

They were really amazing boots. He remembered _just _in time not to compliment them aloud.

When von Krolock was down to his pants and shirtsleeves he shooed Alfred away. "Enough, enough for today. I've had a very busy night, and I want peace and quiet before I sleep."

"But I _have _been-!…er…"

"-… Quiet?" the count finished for him, arching an eyebrow.

"Sorry."

Von Krolock laughed softly and gestured him out. "You should get your rest in the daytime, because I'll expect you awake at night. Go – Koukol will show you where to sleep. If Herbert or anyone else bothers you, come to me and I will put a stop to it."

"Anyone else?" Alfred repeated in alarm. "How many other vampires are there here?"

"I'm not certain," von Krolock said with a small graceful shrug. "Sometimes they bite people when I'm not looking, and then there are more."

"B-…" Alfred swallowed. "I-…"

There was a long silence… and then von Krolock laughed.

Alfred tried to relax. "Oh-… you were joking. Right?"

"Of course."

"There aren't any other vampires here."

"Oh no no – there _are_," von Krolock corrected. "But they would never dare bite anyone without my permission."

"… Which you won't give."

Silence.

"Right? Sir?"

Von Krolock smiled, cool and courteous. "Good night, Alfred."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, it looks like this story is going to end up as just a bunch of scenes from the time Alfred spends in vK's employ, as they try to get comfortable with each other. For now it seems like vK making all the concessions, but I think before long Alfred will be induced to meet him in the middle.**

* * *

"No – _no!_" Alfred yelped. He tried to flinch away, but the vampire was far too strong. "Stop it, you _promised,_" he hissed. "You swore you wouldn't bite me without permission! And I _don't _give permission!"

Von Krolock laughed against his neck so that the terrible fangs actually scraped over his skin. "Have I bitten you yet, Alfred?"

Alfred swallowed. He couldn't answer, couldn't _breathe, _as he felt the wet cool pressure of the count's tongue move over him.

"Have I?" Licking, hard, over his vein.

"No," he gasped at last.

"No. Exactly. Then what's the problem?"

The problem was there were lips _and teeth oh God teeth_ exploring his neck, sucking. "Stop that," he choked out. He remembered Sarah describing this very act… only according to her there was some kind of ecstacy in it, some dark pleasure in allowing a vampire to contemplate what he planned to do to you. Alfred for one was not experiencing any pleasure. He was terrified, plain and simple. His knees were about to give out on him. "Count, what are you doing?"

Von Krolock re-gripped his shoulders and nudged his head aside to whisper into his ear. "Just the other day you were advising me to find pleasure in resisting temptation," he breathed. He held Alfred's shoulder and temple, spreading to bare the neck. "And so I am taking your advice. I _am _enjoying this."

"I didn't mean- _ah!_"

Von Krolock was mocking a bite, closing his jaws until his fangs dug in, chuckling.

"_Ow_! I said _resist_ the temptation to hurt people, not start torturing me on purpose!"

The painful suction ceased a moment as von Krolock unsealed his lips to speak. "I _am _resisting," he said, barely intelligible because he still had his mouth full of neck.

And also because a growl had entered his voice that Alfred _Did. Not. Like_.

He forced himself not to panic. "I'm a little worried, sir, because sometimes you complain about how you _can't _resist," he said as calmly as he could. "So, please: enough. Let go."

"Mm-nn."

Alfred stopped clutching at the arms of his chair, and reached up instead to von Krolock's hands. He couldn't pry them loose. "Mm-nn why?" he asked, dreading it. "You mean you won't, or you can't?"

Von Krolock at last pulled back a few inches. "I don't know," he admitted, before bending to play with a spot just a bit to the left. "Your pulse is racing."

Alfred shuddered as the count's fingernails rasped over his skin. A puff of air was blown against him, and he was wet there and it made him shudder again. "You gave your word you wouldn't do this."

"I gave my word I wouldn't _bite_ you. Not that I wouldn't _think_ about biting you… or make _you_ think about it too."

He was being pinched now – teeth, nails, he wasn't sure – hard enough to hurt. To bruise. And that would bring blood to the surface and make it even harder for the vampire to play by the rules. "If you think about it any more right now you're going to lose control," he said, wishing his voice didn't shake. "So on the count of three you're going to let go of me. I'm going to step away and take out my crucifix. You're not going to come near me again until you've calmed down. Is that clear, sir?"

A growl.

"Ready? One… Two… _Three._"

Von Krolock opened his hands and turned his face away a moment, and that was enough. Alfred lunged out of his grasp, took his cross out and held it in front of him, still backing away. "_Stay away from me._"

The count slid down to the floor behind the chair, hissing.

Once he was out of sight of the cross he grew silent, and then for a while there was no sound at all except for Alfred's panting. Then: "Count?"

"Wait."

Alfred found himself creeping closer. "Are you… all right?"

"I will be. Are you?"

"Yeah – I mean, I will be."

"Good." He sighed, long and slow. "Put that thing away," he said after a bit. "I'm coming out now."

"Wait! Um-…"

"I can't sit here forever, Alfred."

Alfred took a deep breath. "Right… all right."

When the count stood up he seemed calmer, but rather exhausted. He looked Alfred over and smiled a little. "You handled that well. You should be proud of yourself."

The smile drew attention to those awful, lethal fangs… which today had stopped shy of drawing any blood. "Yes, um… you too."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm having a tailor come in, Alfred, and I want you to get clothes made."

He looked down at himself. "Why? What's wrong with my usual clothes? I mean…"

Von Krolock sighed. "In a nutshell, everything you own is plain and old, and your jacket has become too tight across the shoulders. Shall I get Herbert to come in and give you a more thorough critique?"

Alfred had noticed about the jacket, actually. He blamed von Krolock's dictate that he spend time outdoors now that the weather was nicer. He ran and climbed for hours every day… and then spent far too much time admiring himself in the mirrors afterwards. "Is it for a special occasion, sir?" As he spoke he guided von Krolock down into a chair deftly – he could see by the way the count blew hair out of his eyes that he wanted it organized.

"Mmm." Von Krolock relaxed into the brushing, and it was a while before he spoke. "I'm inviting a guest. It's not time for a big ball, of course, but nevertheless you and Herbert and I must all look our best."

Alfred went still. "A guest? You mean a girl?"

A sigh. "How many times must I tell you, Alfred: Herbert's tastes are his own and I don't share them."

"I know, I know, that's not what I meant." He laughed a little. "And by the way I still have yet to forgive you for not _telling _me so, instead of saying all that other... you know."

"Why? What on earth did I say instead?" the count asked, a miserable failure at sounding innocent.

Alfred started brushing again, much less gently. "You know what you said."

"Remind me."

"Stop jumping, I'm not trying to seduce you," he recited. He could rattle it all off word-for-word. "Rest assured, if I start trying to seduce you you'll be left in no doubt – and there won't be a thing you can do to change my mind. Until that time, there is no point worrying."

Von Krolock laughed. "I take it you worried anyway."

Yes, and he still resented all the sleep it had cost him over the first week or so – but he had other fish to fry right now. He waited until the count sank deeper into his chair, relaxing, and then said: "So tell me about this girl you've invited."

Von Krolock shrugged. "I appeared to her and now she wants to come share herself with me. Quite typical."

"Like Sarah."

"No." He craned his neck to smile up in Alfred's direction. "Sarah was unusual – she didn't want _me_, she wanted freedom. She wanted life."

"And you planned to give her death instead."

He rolled his eyes and dismissed the idea with a wave. "We've never really discussed Sarah, have we?"

Alfred found himself seething. "No sir." _Discuss_. He would give von Krolock a piece of his mind then.

Before he could, though, the count said calmly: "We ought to. When you leave here I assume you're going to go looking for her… and Alfred, you don't have the faintest idea how to win her."

"And you do, count?"

"Of course. I _did _win her. I had to physically eject her from my castle, as you may remember, over her tears and pleas and protestations. She wouldn't let go. She drew my blood."

Oh, Alfred remembered _that_, all right. The count had detached Sarah from around his neck none too gently, raking her nails down his jaw in the process. The look on his face, the glowing of his eyes, Alfred didn't think he would ever forget. _You blooded me, liebling,_ he'd purred, his voice thick. _It's unfortunate I just made a promise not to respond in kind._ And he'd touched the wounds and put his fingers to her lips, _To remember me by, _smiling as she kissed and then licked outright. _Go back to your people now, Sarah._

"Ah, Sarah," von Krolock murmured, apparently remembering as well.

Alfred frowned. "You liked her – I hear it in your voice." He swallowed and made himself ask: "Why did you agree to trade her for me?"

Von Krolock let out a long slow breath. "If I tell you," he said at last, "Will you behave yourself when my guest comes over? I don't want to see any silly theatrics and hysteria – and again I remind you that whatever I plan to do, you can't stop me."

"I can't just let you kill some girl!"

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice." Then he shrugged. "Though as it turns out, I have no plans of killing her."

But that would change, Alfred knew, as soon as the scent of blood was in the air. He had to be there, on the slim hope that he when the count when too far he could stop him… or, slightly more likely, at least influence him to stop on his own.

"Fine," he said. "I'll behave myself for your dinner. I'll wear what you tell me, and I'll do what you say."

"… And you'll sit where I order you."

"Um." He didn't like the sound of that. "Where am I going to be sitting?"

"With Herbert. You are going to be Herbert's escort for the evening."

"_What?_"

"I fear the girl would become uncomfortable alone at a table surrounded by slavering men. But if she sees that you and Herbert are a pair, and that I and I alone-"

"Whoa! Herbert and I are _not _a pair."

"For the course of one evening, you can pretend."

"No! Absolutely not! You don't know what Herbert tried to _do _to me!"

Silence for a moment, and then the count chuckled. "Actually, I'm afraid I do. Consider yourself fortunate that someone rescued you in time."

Alfred resented like hell that his predicament was so _amusing, _but the most he dared do was glare and mutter: "If you're trying to make me feel better about this, you're going about it all wrong."

Von Krolock didn't make the slightest effort to sugarcoat it: "I don't particularly care how you feel." He met Alfred's gaze coolly. "Will you do as I tell you, or not?"

If he _didn't _agree, he'd likely spend the evening locked up, and von Krolock would do what he liked to the girl anyway. At least if he were physically in the room with them he might be able to help.

But still he hesitated. Could he really stand by and just _watch _while vampires corrupted an innocent little girl?

"Alfred? Will you?"

Closing his eyes would achieve nothing. He'd managed to save Sarah by taking a stand – perhaps he'd get lucky again. Anyway, he had to try. "Yes sir."

* * *

**TBC. Okay, this is the closest we're going to come to a cliffhanger for this story, and I hope to get the next bit up fairly soon. Also: though I can guess by the fact that you've read this far that you're interested, I'd like to know what you think. Write me something!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Answers to stuff in reviews.**

**Reve** - It's true that I didn't know the ending of Expert yet... but that's not why I took it down. The main reason is: I like it better too! But the vK and the Alfred were pretty different in that fic than this one, and I have trouble keeping them all straight at once. So this way, I will write this story first, while these guys are fresh in my mind (I just went to Stuttgart again!) and then I'll get back to the other one and put it all up again, hopefully tighter and with edits. I tend to ramble when I write :o)

**Theilian **- There's more than one Florianherbert? Cool, I didn't know that. The one I've got in mind now is the current Stuttgart incarnation - Fetterle's.

**SYCD **- Just wanted to say thanks; you've commented on a bunch of things and I really appreciate it!

**xXxSimaraxXx **- Yeah I understand a bit of German. Not an enormous bit, but enough.

And now, on to the chapter!

* * *

"Well?" Alfred tried hard not to feel stupid.

Herbert tilted his head thoughtfully. "Turn."

Alfred spun, feeling even _more_ stupid.

"Again, slower. Turn… stop!"

After a moment he peeked over his shoulder, to discover that Herbert was just grinning and enjoying the view. "_Herbert_!" He whirled around, hands behind him to cover up.

"What? Can I _help _it if your clothes finally fit you properly for a change?" Herbert beckoned the tailor close, shaking his head in disapproval. "Something is wrong with that sleeve. Too tight at the cuff. Reposition the buttons."

Alfred brought the offending sleeve to his face to study it, and tried to figure out how on earth Herbert had noticed. True, it wasn't quite as comfortable and roomy as the other wrist, but- "_Whoa_!"

Herbert had placed hands on his shoulders. When Alfred jumped, he withdrew them immediately. "Well take it _off_, darling, or how can we get it fixed? You don't want him sewing while you're wearing the thing. He'll prick you." A quirk of eyebrows, a playful pat on the arm. "And we know you don't want _that_."

Alfred heaved a sigh and took his jacket off, glaring at Herbert's back. _Turn away while I change _was the first rule he'd established, and though Herbert had so far been respecting it scrupulously, he suspected that his luck was not likely to hold forever. "All right," he grumbled. "Jacket's off. You can turn around."

Herbert looked him up and down again, more slowly. "It's good, but really, Alfred: red is your _color_. I wish you would believe me."

"No." Alfred stepped away. "Red was _Sarah's _color; I saw the dress the count had made for her, and I know what he had planned. I bet this new girl will be wearing red too, won't she? Forgive me if I don't want myself all done up like _that _kind of guest."

Herbert studied his fingernails and shrugged.

"Herbert… what is he going to do to her?"

A smirk. "I could demonstrate."

"Herbert. If you tell me…" he swallowed, took a moment to get up his nerve, and declared: "Then I won't tell your father that you grabbed my behind."

Herbert looked faintly puzzled. "But I _didn't _grab your…"

"Then it won't even be a lie, will it." He crossed his arms and tried to look firm. "Tell me, or I _will _get you in trouble."

Herbert narrowed his eyes a moment, then laughed. "Ooh, I _like _it when they turn feisty." He pranced over to a chair and sat down, throwing one leg up over the armrest. "Here: I'll tell you what Father plans to do, and then I really _will _grab your behind. And no one has to know."

The tailor, who had been pretending not to listen, made a sort of choking noise. Alfred tried to ignore it. "Fine. You tell me what he's planning, and then you may briefly – _briefly – _grab my behind. Which you have already done anyway, I might add, _without _asking permission. And you still haven't apologized."

"Ah yes. Sorry." Alfred had never seen anybody less repentant in his whole life. "So: what Father wants to do is have a girl for a visit so he can give her some wine."

"Some…?"

"_Special_ wine." When Alfred still didn't get it, Herbert rolled his eyes and explained: "He's laced it with something, dear."

"Laced it? You mean with poison?"

Herbert snorted. "His blood."

"His-? But why?"

"The count's blood is addictive, darling – surely you've noticed?"

Alfred felt like he was missing something. "But I haven't been drinking the count's blood."

"Really?" Herbert seemed surprised. "I felt sure he liked you. How strange. Well, don't worry – I'm sure he'll warm up eventually, and you'll get a taste."

He made a face. "Of blood? Eugh – I don't _want _a taste."

"Just you wait. Oh, it is to _die _for, and I mean that literally. Mmm."

"Herbert, he's… your father." Alfred reminded, as gently as he could.

"So?" Herbert popped up and flounced over. "And I'll have that grab now, if you don't mind."

"Not yet," Alfred said with authority. He let his hand creep towards his neck, ready to pull out his cross necklace on a moment's notice.

Herbert stopped two paces away. "My, my. How bold we've grown."

"Yes, well, having the count breathe down your neck for weeks and weeks will do that to you." Graudally they both relaxed, and then he continued. "Now: you still haven't told me what he plans to do in the end. Bite her?"

"No, silly. No biting – it would confuse what he's trying to test."

"Test?"

"It's the wine. He wants to know what it will do to her. Give her dreams, perhaps? Make her crave?"

Before asking any more stupid questions Alfred tried to think it all through on his own. Suddenly the thought came to him, clear and certain. "If this works, he's going to send a bottle to Sarah. Right?"

Herbert gave the ceiling a wide smile. "Clever as well as bold! My prayers are answered." He faced Alfred then and all of a sudden the smile vanished. He held up a hand and gestured, without another word, for Alfred to turn around.

Fair was fair, and Alfred turned his back with a wince. "Go on."

Herbert took a grope that was long and leisurely, exploring Alfred's rear with his fingers and massaging to his heart's content. Alfred squeezed his eyes closed, hardly breathing, and tried to focus on worrying about Sarah instead of noticing that it felt good to be rubbed and patted. He wished he couldn't hear Herbert laughing softly in his ear.

"Done yet?" he asked at last, tightly. "This must be the longest grab in the history of the world."

"Maybe so." After one last little pinch Herbert stepped away. "But I'm sure we can break our record again later, if we really put our minds to it."

"_Herbert._" Alfred rubbed his behind himself, trying to get rid of the tingling the vampire had left. "Leave me alone."

Hands raised, the very soul of harmlessness, Herbert backed away sighing, "Fine, fine." He paused by the (scandalized) tailor to check a few last details, then bowed. "See you at our dinner, Alfred. I look forward to it."

Only once he was gone did it occur to Alfred that he should have said: _I'd rather look forward to you than have you behind me,_ and he vowed to have that line – plus others – ready for next time. You had to be prepared with these people, that's all. He was learning.

* * *

TBC.

I don't know where this chapter came from – I hadn't intended to include any Herbert/Alfred at all. But I wanted Alfred to know what the count is up to. And I love that the vamps are bored enough to come up with nutty and elaborate methods of seducing mortals they're not allowed to visit or speak to. Or in Herbert's case, touch.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is a very quick little chapter, sorry. But the next chapter gets things moving: It's long, and in it vK & Alfred take things to the next level. Dundundunnnnnn suspense. Oh, and Sarah reappears – if not next chapter, then the one after. **

* * *

"How are you enjoying your soup, Herbert?" The count's voice was far too sweet. Warning.

But Herbert ignored the warning and shrugged at his untouched bowl. "Looks fine."

"Good. Then perhaps you'll eat it."

Herbert didn't dare argue with him, so he turned to Alfred instead. "Food makes me sick," he hissed, under his breath.

The girl, across the table from Alfred, was looking in his direction and so he couldn't turn his head. "But it looks odd if you don't try anything," he whispererd out of the corner of his mouth. "Just have a couple of bites and you can spit it up later – that's what your father's doing."

"I can't _bite_ soup."

"Herbert! Come _on_."

The count cleared his throat to put an end to their whispering. "Ah, look – our wine." He gestured for Koukol, and Koukol came forward with a tray of four glasses already poured.

Alfred could see letters sketched on the lace underneath each glass. The ones marked _H _and _M _looked suspiciously thick and dark to be wine… and though the ones marked _G_ and _A _looked alike, he knew better. He gulped – he _couldn't _let the girl drink it. Before Koukol could stop him he reached forward, snatched her goblet from the tray, and took a huge gulp.

The girl gasped at his rudeness, but von Krolock and Herbert only smiled at each other. Alfred lowered his glass. "Did you-…" he didn't want to say it aloud.

"I know you too well, Alfred." Von Krolock took the _A_ goblet from the tray and offered it to his guest with half a bow. "This is for you, my dear."

"No – wait!" Alfred reached out across the table…

But the count was already in motion. "Oh – look, Alfred, you're shivering," he said as he rose from his seat. "The draft in here is terrible. We must get you something warmer to wear. Come with me – I insist."

"But I'm not- _agh!_" He was dragged from his chair before he could argue, and hauled from the room by main force.

They left the hall and von Krolock slammed the huge doors shut behind them, shutting out the end of Herbert's explanation: "Yes, Father takes his obligations as host _very _seriously…"

They stared at each other in the flickering torchlight of the hallway. Finally Alfred got up the nerve to declare: "I can't let you poison her."

"It's not _poison,_" the count growled in exasperation. "Very well – I should have done this earlier. Here." He brought his hand to his fangs, and when he lowered it again there was a big drop of blood welling up on his index finger. He held out his hand. "Taste."

Alfred stepped back. "No thank you. Herbert told me…"

"I'm not _offering_, Alfred – that was an order. Taste now."

He shook his head. "When I came here, you promised."

"… Not to bite you, yes. Not relevant."

"Count, please."

He didn't even dignify that with a response; he only reached steadily towards Alfred's face and waited for him to open up.

Alfred knew he had no choice, and any more begging would only serve to embarrass him, so he cooperated and closed his eyes. Something cool and wet smeared over his tongue, and the next thing he knew, his heart was pounding and there was a strange ringing in his ears. "_Whoa,_" he said, reaching behind him for the support of the wall. "I feel like I stood up too fast."

"Satisfied? It's not poison."

His tongue still played aroung, tasting. "Well, that was barely any," he pointed out.

"True. Do you want more?"

Alfred glared at him – mostly because he kind of _did _want more; it was a pleasant little buzz, like a few glasses of alcohol all in one drop. "No," he said firmly. "I don't drink blood."

The count sucked on his finger himself to stop the bleeding. "No, no of course not." He flashed a quick grin that Alfred didn't entirely trust. "Shall we go back in now? Are you calm?"

Alfred nodded. If anything he was _too _calm, but really, he'd only had a little taste and the feeling would have to fade soon. He was sure of it.

He followed the count back into the dining room and was about to sit back in his chair when-

"Alfred." Von Krolock's voice sounded different now, smoother. He unclasped his cloak and held it out. "For your shivers."

* * *

TBC.

Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok, so initially this chapter was going to be mostly vK getting his brood on, but Herbert felt the need to poke his head in and so here he is. I'm sorry. If he keeps hijacking the story, I'll stake him and that will put an end to it. He wasn't even supposed to be in this fic at all! Gah.**

* * *

Alfred was late with the fires today; he and Koukol were having problems again and it appeared that _somebody _had doused most of the wood with water. The smoke that resulted from his first attempt to light it almost suffocated him, and then he had to run around hunting up other, drier wood before he could try again. By the time all the fires were finally going Alfred knew he really shouldn't go grab supper; the count had long since risen and would probably be waiting for him.

On the other hand, though, he was _starving_. He threw himself together a tray of food and then hurried upstairs with it. He rushed into the study spewing apologies…

But Von Krolock didn't even seem to notice him. He was standing braced against the mantle, watching the flames, and his cheeks were shining in the firelight.

Alfred crept closer, telling himself it was possible that light just irritated a vampire's eyes, that's all, and said softly: "Count?"

Von Krolock jumped, sniffed, and wiped his face. "Alfred." The clog in his voice left no doubt that he had been crying.

"What's the matter?"

"It's nothing. Nothing. For heaven's sake sit down," the count growled, trying to wave Alfred's concern away. "Here:" He took the knife right off of Alfred's tray, and before Alfred had time to worry, grasped the blade and tugged it through his own fist. He flicked his hand open, sprinkling Alfred's plate with blood, and then put the knife down again. "There. Now relax. Sit."

This wasn't the first time the count had spiked his food, but until now Alfred had always taken a moment to protest _that's_ _disgusting._ This time he didn't bother; he was grateful for the fuzzy sense of peace it brought him, and even licked the knife clean without wrinkling his nose. Almost at once he felt secure enough to tackle his boss's strange mood. "So… is everything all right?"

The count chuckled. "Yes, everything's fine. Everything _is _fine, now. But tonight I've been dwelling on… other times. On some…"

When he didn't finish, Alfred was too curious not to prompt. "Some…?"

"Some people." He shook his head. "I've been meaning to explain this to you; you ought to understand if you're going to be party to any of it."

Alfred sat up a little straighter. "Whoa. Party?"

Von Krolock ignored him, sank deep into his chair, and started monologing. "I don't kill very often now, and when I do, it doesn't hurt me much. But long ago things were different, and I-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Alfred repeated, agast.

"No. You think that's terrible, hm? Sometimes I agree. But then… when I think back to what it used to cost me, every time I… well. I think of that, and I think: this cannot possibly be worse than that. Nothing could." He took a long, slow breath. "It was…. When I think of the people I knew, people I _loved_… Have you ever loved, Alfred?"

Before Alfred could answer, von Krolock waved him to silence and continued. "No – not infatuation. I mean _love, _the communion with another person, where you _know _them, where you feel what they feel, where… where their joy brightens your heart and it hurts you to see them suffer. To hurt such a person yourself, Alfred, it's not…" He took a moment, cleared his throat. "It's not bearable. You can't live with having done it. Even to think of it is… well."

Alfred found that he was aching a little himself, now, listening to this. Now he wished he _hadn't_ had any of the count's blood today; it made it hard to feel cold and rational. He set his plate down on the floor.

As though reading his mind, Von Krolock laughed softly. "Yes. Empathy is not always a gift."

"Not when you kill people for a living, no."

Alfred wished immediately that he hadn't said it, but the count didn't even seem to have heard. His look turned distant again and he went on: "At first I thought that if I didn't love, it wouldn't be so hard. And so I took no more lovers, made no more friends, so that I would never again harm someone I cared for. But still I had to eat, of course, the thirst drove me to it, and it turned out strangers were no better – I found I loved _everyone, _knew them, mourned them – afterwards. People who deserved to die, people who wanted to die, people who were about to die anyway… I tried everything. The list of people I have killed goes on for miles."

Alfred swallowed. "Oh."

Von Krolock was sitting with his fingers steepled under his chin, staring in Alfred's direction but seeing nothing. He sat that way for a while, until eventually he smiled and he shook his head. "Well. As I said, it is no longer a problem. I have trained myself not to care, not to feel. I no longer imagine myself a person like other people – I think I no longer have a soul. And so I can kill without remorse."

"Oh well that's-" _Good?_ No. "...Convenient," Alfred finished at last.

The count's mouth twisted. "Not quite. I no longer seek the drinking-in, the communion… I bite only to slake my thirst, but I feel restless. It is not enough. Something is missing. I feel like... like a woman selling her body for money. It's the perversion of something that should be beautiful and overwhelming."

Alfred couldn't follow the count's train of thought any further; he was too distracted by the bizarre image of von Krolock whoring himself in a dark alley. In a dress. With this sad, soulful look on his face.

He snorted with laughter, aloud. And then gasped: "Oh- I'm sorry! I didn't-… I just, what you said, it-… Um, I just."

The count's eyebrows arched. "Oh yes, by all means, laugh at my misery." Alfred tried to protest that he had just been caught off-guard, and that if he were thinking straight he would never had done it, but the count just waved him off. "It doesn't matter. You had to be told, and I prefer you like this anyway. It's easier for me to talk to you when your stare is vacant as a cow's and you're not interrupting me every two words."

Blood or not, Alfred's head was clear enough to seize on the important detail and ignore the cow thing. "Why did I have to be told?" he asked.

Von Krolock dipped his head and his smile was genuine. "Clever Alfred." He rose from his chair and faced the fireplace, pulling his cloak closed around him. "But, not tonight. I think I've humiliated myself enough for one evening, and I'd like some time to reflect in private."

"You haven't-"

"We'll talk again when I'm feeling a little less exposed."

"But-"

"Therefore, take the evening off. Engineer another prank for Koukol, if you like."

"How did you know-"

"Goodnight, Alfred."

* * *

Even though he was burning with curiosity about what on earth the boss was planning, and why he'd felt it necessary to talk on and on about the state of his soul (or lack of soul?), Alfred knew that asking more questions would get him nowhere. He decided to wait for the count to sit him down and talk again… but the next night von Krolock was formal and distant, and didn't say a word beyond thanking him for the stellar scalp massage that came after the hairbursh. The night after that he was busy reading, and Alfred wasn't allowed to see him at all.

On the third evening, when von Krolock had locked himself in the study alone again, Alfred's patience ran out, and he decided to take matters into his own hands. There was _someone _here who could explain – and likely would, for a price.

"Herbert?" Alfred knocked softly. "It's me – Alfred. May I come in?"

The singing stopped, and Herbert's door flew open. "Well, well. Isn't this a nice surprise. Alfred in my bedroom."

He sounded almost nasty, and Alfred blinked in surprise. Then he decided he must have imagined it. "Hi. Sorry to disturb you. I was wondering if I could… come in and… uh, talk? For a minute?"

Herbert frowned. He grabbed Alfred by the chin and tilted his head back harshly. "Did he bite you?"

"What? Oh- no, no. Nothing like that."

"Hm." After a quick once-over he observed, "And you seem to have all your limbs in the right places."

"Uh, yes."

"Then what on _earth _could have frightened you so badly that you'd run here? Or should we flatter me and pretend you came because you want to?"

Ah, now he understood. Herbert was feeling rejected – and no wonder, since Alfred had every intention of rejecting him. Best handle the problem head-on. "Look, you know why I don't come here by choice: because you jump me, and I end up having to fight you off every time. And anyway, I'm not _frightened._"

"Jump you? And, yes you are."

"I am not! And yes, the last time I was here, after that dinner, you tried to kiss me. Remember?"

"Are too. And you were asking for it."

"Asking for it? I said _good night. _And I'm _not_."

"Are too. And while saying _good night _you smiled, and touched me."

"I-? On the arm! That's what people do! Like: hey, I had a good time, see you around."

Herbert paused. He relaxed all at once and leaned against the door frame. "You had a good time?" he purred.

"Gaahh! Herbert!" Alfred stamped his foot. "I didn't mean it that way – would you please get your mind out of my pants? I just meant, I had fun with you. Like a _friend_."

"Hmph." Herbert pursed his lips. "Well, you can't blame me for misunderstanding. You have sluttish eyes."

"_What?_" Alfred covered his eyes with one hand, and Herbert's eyes with the other.

"And your voice goes so deliciously high when you're scandalized." Herbert took his wrist gently and moved it. Alfred still didn't uncover his own eyes, and consequently was caught by surprise when fingers brushed against his cheek. He yelped and flinched away, but Herbert backed him against the hallway wall and trapped him there. "And look at you blush. It suggests you're having impure thoughts, darling."

"Or that I'm embarrassed about the impure thoughts you are _obviously _having about me." Alfred finally uncovered his face, and put both hands on Herbert's chest to keep him away. "Can I come in and talk to you, or not?"

"Mmm, maybe." Herbert patted his cheek. "What'll you give me?"

He'd expected as much. "You can grab my behind again, all right?" he hissed, feeling his blush worsen.

"Boring. I've done that. What else?"

"Jesus, Herbert, I'm not going to…"

Herbert drew away with a shrug. "You could trade answers for your clothes," he suggested. "Piece by piece. Hopefully it will turn out you're a _very _curious boy."

Having come too far to back out now, Alfred ripped off his tie right there in the hallway and threw it at Herbert's face. "There. Doesn't it embarrass you to have to _pay_ for this?"

Herbert laughed and beckoned him into the bedroom. "I'll take what I can get."

* * *

But before too long, Alfred began to suspect that it wasn't _whatever he could he get _that Herbert was after at all; it was just the opportunity to torment him and watch him squirm. At first he'd had to sit in a chair, shirtless, while Herbert described the count's periods of depression and assured that they were nothing to worry about. Then, he'd had to stand up to give a better view while Herbert explained the count's two favorite methods of coping (writing dark poetry, and narrating his despair to an audience.) Just when Alfred was starting to get used to being stared at, Herbert paused to complain _your stocking has a hole in it._ That made him rub one foot on the other self-consciously and apologize, and Herbert giggled.

"Take it off and I'll tell you what this has to do with Sarah."

Alfred tore off the stocking so fast he fell to the floor.

"Calm _down, _cherie, or you'll hurt yourself. And we wouldn't want that. Now: he wants her here so that he can befriend her, know her… _love _her, even." His eyes glowed. "And then…"

"And then what?" Alfred sat on the carpet, hardly breathing, clutching his bare foot with both hands.

Herbert made him wait a good long minute before ending the suspense. "And then he'll bite her and suck her dry!" he announced gleefully.

Alfred's jaw dropped. "No-… n-no, that doesn't make sense," he sputtered. "The count just told me he _doesn't _do that anymore, he just… he said now it's…" The ridiculous image came to him again of the count in an alley, and he shook his head hard to get rid of it.

"The floor's filthy, Alfred. Sit up there."

Alfred jumped up and vaulted into the unmade bed, shoving pillows and comforters aside so that he could sit cross-legged. "There. Now explain."

Herbert's lips twitched. "Other stocking." When Alfred complied he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin just like the count. "My dear beloved sire," he began slowly, "Has tried get by with quick and impersonal little nibbles, but they don't satisfy him. What he longs for, what he's always wanted, is some… some, I don't know, _deep and perfect union_ is how he's described it. But such a thing _kills _the person, every time, and breaks Father's heart in the process. Unless…"

"Unless what?" Alfred looked down at himself. He was down to his pants and underwear now, and he _really _hoped Herbert wouldn't insist.

But he was too engrossed now to be blushing and scandalized, and so Herbert didn't seem interested and went on straight away. "Unless he transforms her. Makes her one of us."

Alfred gasped.

"The problem with _that_, though, is then he feels even worse than if he'd killed the poor thing. Condemning her to a long terrible eternity et cetera, you see, damnation and et cetera et cetera."

Now, finally, it was all making sense. "But he doesn't feel that with Sarah," he realized. "He told me _Sarah is different_."

"Exactly. He thinks she would enjoy what we have. Maybe even be able to teach _him _to enjoy it as well."

Alfred sank back, trying to process all this and figure out what to do. If there was anything he _could _do. Once the count released him from service he would be out of the castle for good, unable to do anything at all to help, and of course von Krolock wouldn't have _forgotten _about Sarah by then; if he had waited so many long years for a solution, another few tiny little months would hardly get in his way!

He groaned aloud and was startled by somebody laughing.

Herbert. He'd forgotten.

"Alfred, has anybody ever told you my bed looks positively _ravishing _on you?"

For a moment he was almost flustered, but he got himself together quickly enough to remember to try growling instead. "I know it's no fun for you to tease me when I'm not blushing," he declared. "So." He sat up and crossed his arms, trying to look tough.

Herbert was suddenly right beside him, so fast Alfred hadn't even seen him move. "That's true." His voice was harder than Alfred was used to, and Alfred found himself scooting away, retreating all the way into the corner of the bed. Herbert followed, crawling slowly towards him and kneeling up in front of him. "So, perhaps in that case I'll have to find some other way of amusing myself, hmm?" He caught up both of Alfred's wrists with one hand and forced them up against the wall.

"Let go." Alfred tried to pull free, but he couldn't and his voice was rising in panic. "Remember what your father said."

"Unfortunately for you, tonight the count is apparently too busy wallowing to enforce any of his silly little _rules_."

Alfred swallowed, which was difficult as Herbert's other hand was now resting on his throat. Loose – so far. "Please let go," he whispered.

"You came here to see _me,_" Herbert reminded, squeezing his neck for just a moment. "Not my father. So: you deal with _me_."

"All right," he agreed at once. "All right, I deal with you. I'm dealing with you, Herbert. I'm sorry. Okay?"

"Mmm." Herbert sat back, and brought Alfred's wrists down to a more comfortable position. After a moment he let go of them entirely. "You know, if you were my friend, you wouldn't have to worry about my ever raising a hand to you."

"Well it's hard to be your friend when you go around threatening my life!" he snapped before he could think better of it.

Herbert snorted. "It's not your _life _I wanted, darling." He turned and climbed down off the bed, and Alfred hurried to do the same. It felt safer than being trapped up in a corner. On a bed.

"Herbert… Look, I'd like to be friends, it's just…"

"Perhaps someday, hm?" Herbert suddenly flashed him a grin. "But in the meantime you're still safe with me, cherie, I promise. On account of your _beautiful _body. Because what kind of horrible monster could ever bring himself to harm _that_?"

His sweeping gesture had Alfred rushing to cover up his bare chest, and turning to get his groin out of ogling range too. "Herbert!"

"And look!" Herbert clapped his hands in delight. "You're blushing again!"

* * *

TBC.

Good heavens this was long.

Also, I hereby give up trying to predict or even control what happens next. It never turns out the way I plan!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews! It's so nice to hear that people are enjoying this.**

* * *

Alfred wanted to just run as fast as his legs would carry him, but he had given his word not to approach the inn in a state of disarray. He had been ordered to make himself as presentable "as if Herbert were helping," which was a truly scary thought, but he had promised he'd do it, in order to avoid the possibility of Herbert actually physically coming along with him.

So, once he was safely out of the woods and near the inn, he paused to change his shirt and wash his face. He threw his ratty traveling shirt away after toweling off with it, and combed his hands through his hair. So far so good. He opened up his bag and shook out a mess of rich grey and silver.

The road was a little muddy and he was concerned that the cloak would drag. But von Krolock had assured him it was perfectly all right if he ruined it, and so after one last loving stroke of the thick velvet, he clasped it around his shoulders and let it fall. The embroidered silver borders caught the last rays of the sun and he wished he had a mirror; he was _sure _he looked perfectly dashing.

_(Sarah wouldn't be able to resist!_)

He mentally went through Herbert's grooming checklist, and realized he had forgotten to check that his breath didn't stink. He checked, and it didn't. Good. Everything was in order.

He set his shoulders and walked the last quarter-mile with long, sure strides. The cloak billowed behind him and he was hard-pressed not to spin around delightedly. No: dignified. Representing the boss. Right.

_(Sarah was going to fall all over herself!_)

* * *

But when Alfred stepped through the doors of the inn, he got a couple of nasty surprises in quick succession. The first was that all his newfound sophistication vanished the moment he laid eyes on _her_, and he found himself clutching his cape around him like a cocoon, unable even to stutter out a hello.

The second nasty surprise was that when _she _laid eyes on _him, _Sarah didn't seem nearly as lovestruck. Instead, she hissed "_You!"_, punched him in the face, and then fled the room.

The third, enormous, cake-taking nasty surprise was that a man standing next to Alfred then gave him a shove and said: "Hey. What did you do to my fiancée?"

Alfred spun so fast he stepped on his own hem and went tumbling to the floor. He looked up. "Fiancée?" he tried to say, but the world was spinning, and instead he fainted.

* * *

When he woke up there was a very large rear end in his face. He winced. "Mrs. Chagall?"

She straightened up and turned to look at him. "About time you woke up. Here – tea."

"I'm-… sorry. What happened?"

"You fainted." She glared hard at him. "Took one look at my Sarah, and you fainted."

"I-... Oh." He swallowed, sat up carefully on the bench, and tried to remember what he had been supposed to say.

But of course he couldn't. All he could think about was: "Sarah has a fiancé?"

Mrs. Chagall nodded tightly. "Someone has to come manage the inn now, now that-…" she didn't finish.

Chagall. "Oh, I see. Um."

"And _someone_ has to help me keep house now, now that…"

Magda. Ah. "Right, right."

"I've tried to do everything on my own, but I just can't. So, we found a nice young man, and he and Sarah are… are moving into… our room…" she was starting to break down.

Alfred swallowed. He had to head her off. "Well, look, let's not be too hasty with that," he said. "I have news. I've been sent from the castle – Count von Krolock would like to invite Sarah to come visit. I'm supposed to take her with me."

Mrs. Chagall froze and abruptly stopped sniffling. "Take her?" Her voice was rising. "My Sarah?"

"Yes, and I'll make sure-"

"_Take her_?"

Alfred got to his feet. "Mrs. Chagall, I promise no harm will-"

"_Get out of my house!_"

"Look, it's not- _aah_!" She shoved him so hard he fell to the floor, and had to scuttle backwards like a crab. He tried to stand, fell over his cape and tried again. Something whacked him on the back of the head and he yelled. He realized he was trapped in a corner and got whacked again, only the cape was over his head now and he couldn't even see where the blows were coming from.

"Get out! Get out or I'll-"

"_MAMA!_"

All at once the pounding stopped. Thank goodness.

Alfred fought his way out of his cape and stood up again, trying to look dignified. "Sarah. Hello."

She stood in the doorway, in a coat and boots, clutching a bundle. "I'm all packed. If he sent you for me, I'm coming," she declared. "But I'm still not speaking to you. Or you," she added in her mother's direction. "I _told _you there's no need to go marrying me off in a panic! I knew it: the count is _going _to take care of me. And you."

"Like he took care of your papa?"

"Not this again." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Mama, I told you, the count would never hurt Papa. You know as well as I that Papa and that nasty little baggage probably just ran off together."

Mrs. Chagall put down the sausage she had been using as a weapon, and crossed her arms. "Alfred saw the bite marks too. Didn't you, Alfred?"

Oh, this was ugly. He could confirm it, if he chose. Or he could go one better, too, and explain that in fact Chagall was living in the castle at this very moment, making unholy sloppy noises with _that_ _nasty little baggage _from their shared coffin every single night.

But the way Sarah was looking at him, he couldn't bear to say anything that would upset her. But he also couldn't lie to her. He tried for a middle road. "Look, if it's true that the count bit him, then surely he'll know where he is now. He told me he keeps careful track of his-…" _Victims _sounded a little harsh, though it's what the count had said. "...Children."

Mrs. Chagall put her hands over her mouth.

Sarah tossed her head. "Well. See? So, either way, Papa's fine. All I know is, if the count invited me, then I'm going. Alfred: come." She turned and marched out of the room, and Alfred rushed after her.

* * *

The trip back started out really badly. Alfred was freezing, because he'd given Sarah the cloak to wrap up in. Nothing he had brought was suitable for travel at night anyway, since he had _expected _to wait til morning, like civilized people. But Sarah would have none of it; she was hell-bent on reaching the count's side as fast as humanly possible – and if it tore at Alfred's heart to see her so infatuated she didn't even seem to notice.

In fact, as they walked on, she forgot her resolution not to talk to him, and started telling him all about her infatuation in great detail. About dreams she'd had, ones where the count had come into her bedroom, or her bath, and looked at her, touched her…

"Right here," she remembered dreamily, dragging a hand over her neck. "Just the back of his hand, so _slow,_ and I felt it, and I woke up _knowing _I felt it, remembering what it felt like, and I-… Oh, Alfred!" She turned to him with a huge smile. "Isn't it wonderful? Finally I'm going to _see _him! _Him!_"

This wasn't right – it wasn't _fair_! How was he supposed to compete with a vampire?

Especially when the vampire was _cheating_.

It didn't take Alfred long to convince himself that The Right Thing To Do was for him to speak up. "Sarah, there's something you should know," he said steadily, trying to not to think of how the count was going to _kill_ him for this. "It's important. It's about… what you're feeling."

She stopped skipping along and turned to face him. "What?" she said, and for a moment he was distracted because he could see her breath and it was so pretty!

He shook his head and made himself focus. "It isn't real."

She was quiet for a moment. Then: "What isn't real?"

Yes – he had to protect her. "You've had his blood," he explained. "It's addictive, it makes you think things… feel things… that aren't real. He sends you presents that are poisoned, and you drink them. So what I'm saying is: you're not in love, you're just… sick."

Her jaw dropped. "Alfred, that is a terrible thing to say. And a lie. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"No – it's true," he pressed. "I should know – I've had it too."

Her eyes grew even wider. "_You_?"

"Yup. Sarah, I _live _with him." He could see her getting angry, restless… _jealous._ Ha! Let her see how it feels. "The count touches me all the time. As well as gives me his blood."

She shook her head. "You're lying."

"No I'm not. Give me your hand."

She stopped, and held out her hand as requested. He brought it up between them to demonstrate. "Just the other day he took a knife and set it right here, between his fingers. Right there. Cut. And held it out for me to lick."

"Liar," she breathed, in fascination. She didn't resist as he pulled her hand closer to his mouth, closer…

"Like this."

She gasped _oh _as his lips closed around her. She was flushed and glowing…

And none of it was for him. He knew full well that she didn't want him, and if he pressed on anyway, then he would be no better than Herbert. He _wouldn't _be like that. No matter what.

He set her hand down gently, stepped back and turned away.

"Alfred?" she said. "What's the matter?"

_I love you and you're stomping on my heart _would not be the right answer here. He had to remember that there were more important things at stake than himself and his own hurt feelings. Sarah was in danger. "What's the matter is that you're going to be angry, but I _can't _not interfere between you and the count," he explained as calmly as he could. "You're no match for him."

He could hear her rustling impatiently. "Let _me _be the judge of that, all right? Now can we please get moving? I'm cold."

"Says the girl wearing a coat _and _a cloak." He turned back to her, smiling even as a full-body shiver ripped through him.

She frowned. "Are you-? Then why did you-… Here. Take your cloak back, silly."

"No- no, really. I want you to have it." He felt terrible. He shouldn't have said anything.

"All right, then: put it on and we'll share." Never mind: he should _definitely _have said something. This was beyond wonderful.

He settled the cloak around his own shoulders again, and held it open so that Sarah could step in too. They walked side by side, his arm around her shoulders and hers locked tight around his waist. He forgot to keep feeling sorry for himself, or worried for her, and instead just wished that the walk would go on forever. Even though it really _was _cold.

* * *

TBC.

Be patient with Sarah; I know it's annoying that she has such stars in her eyes now. They'll go away.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: You guys are all a bad influence! How is this story turning into Herbert/Alfred? Gah! I *hate* Herbert/Alfred as a pairing! Some day I'm going to take this thing down and re-do it the way I meant it originally, but until then: enjoy.**

* * *

When they arrived, the count was waiting for them at the top of the big front staircase. Sarah took the stairs two at a time and threw herself into his arms, shrieking with delight when he lifted her and spun her around.

Alfred climbed up after her, slowly. Exhausted. Finally he cleared his throat loudly to interrupt their touching little reunion.

Sarah turned to throw him a dirty look. "Count, Alfred said things about you," she said coolly. "Terrible things. They're not true, are they?"

Von Krolock gave him a look of faint surprise and said, directly into his mind: _Very well, Alfred. War it is._

"No, wait-!"

"Ask me anything and I will answer, my dear," von Krolock said over him, smiling, "And you may judge for yourself what is terrible. We will talk after you've had a bath and some food; you look exhausted. Though still beautiful."

Alfred tried not to watch as his fingers ghosted over her cheek and she closed her eyes. "Yes," she breathed, then finally shook her head to clear it. "Yes, precisely: I will judge for myself." She moved away from him and faced Alfred again. "So stop bothering me!" She shoved him and stomped off, nose in the air.

But Alfred was at the top of the staircase, apparently standing on the hem of his own cloak again, and when she shoved him he lost his balance. He tried to windmill his arms but he couldn't catch himself; knew it was too late and he was falling. He gasped _Aah _but Sarah had already turned away and he was-…

He shrieked as a bolt of pain shot up through his arm. It was a moment before his brain caught up and he realized what had happened: in that split second while he teetered at the top of the stairs, von Krolock had leaped close and snatched him by the hand, and pulled him back to solid ground.

Alfred's knees were suddenly weak with the adrenaline and he sank down, cradling his throbbing arm to his chest. He crouched there at the top of the steps, against the wall, panting for breath.

Von Krolock waited until Alfred looked up to make eye contact and said _thank you._ Then, smiling just a little, he gave a swift nudge with his boot and knocked Alfred down the stairs himself.

Already folded into a little ball, there was nothing for Alfred to do but tuck tight and tumble. He banged his way painfully down the staircase and then lay on the floor at the bottom, staring up in a daze. Von Krolock watched him stir a moment, then nodded and vanished off after Sarah.

"Wait," Alfred tried to say, but his head hurt. It was his neck, really, or maybe his head. He wasn't sure. Whatever it was it hurt a lot.

But even more than hurt, he was angry. How dare the count just _nod_ at him! So satisfied. "Checking that I'm all right, eh?" Alfred mumbled aloud. "It would serve you right if I wasn't. If I died right here." For a moment he held his breath, kind of hoping that his head was broken and he _would _die, because think how upset von Krolock would be then!

When some time passed and he was still alive, he found himself feeling _disappointed_. Which actually was pretty funny. So, he started laughing.

He was still at it a few minutes later when a sigh drifted down to him from the top of the staircase. "Alfred, Alfred. What _are _we going to do with you."

He looked up. "Herbert?" he asked through his laughter, but the next thing he knew Herbert was right beside him, touching his neck, and he knew what _that _meant and he started to cry instead. "Please don't," he wheezed.

Herbert sighed again. "Don't what? I'm just picking you up, you ninny; Father said you hit your head and I doubt you want to spend the rest of the night lying here in a heap."

"Ow." Alfred was lifted, and he hid his face against Herbert's chest. He was still crying, too hard to speak intelligibly. "I don't feel well."

"Clearly."

And that got him laughing again. "I hit my head," he realized after a while. "None of this is funny at all. Where are we going?"

"My room." When that got tears going again, Herbert heaved a huge sigh and said: "Relax. I won't take advantage of you."

A pledge that direct, even from Herbert, was enough to calm him down. Eventually Alfred sniffed. "Really?"

"At least not tonight. You're in no shape to have fun with now; look at you! What happened?"

Herbert's door creaked open, but Alfred didn't see because his eyes were closed. He moaned with delight when he was laid down on something soft, and spent a moment fussing with covers to get comfortable. "I fell down the stairs," he explained at last. "They pushed me."

"They?"

"Sarah did first – but it was an _accident, _I'm sure of it. The count saved me and I didn't fall, only then _he _pushed me instead. I don't understandwhy everyone is so mean!"

Herbert snorted. "Open your eyes, Alfred. Can you see all right?"

"I guess so."

"And what happened to your hand? It's puffed up."

Alfred shrugged. "Since when are you such a nurse? Hey!" Herbert was undressing him – peeling off his jacket and hiking up his sleeve.

"I'll bind it for you so it doesn't swell up any worse. Don't fight me, or I'll bind the rest of you too."

He'd been hit so hard that even _Herbert _was funny, and Alfred giggled a little. He watched the wrapping, bemused, and didn't resist. Afterwards he let Herbert lay him down and spoon in behind him. "Now, shush," Herbert ordered. "You have to just lie here until your headache goes away."

"Hmph." Alfred looked down at the arm around his waist. "And _you _have to lie here because…?"

Herbert cuffed him sharply on the hip. "Because I have a healing touch, you idiot." They both laughed a little.

Alfred might actually have relaxed there, in Herbert's bed, _with _Herbert…

… if he hadn't felt something touch him right behind the ear.

"Hey!" He jumped half a foot.

"Hush. Hush, you're bleeding, darling. That's all."

Alfred winced. "Please don't lick me," he anticipated.

"Sorry," Herbert said, and then licked him.

"Euw!" He struggled a little, and then gave up. "Quit it – that's disgusting."

"No, it's delicious. You must have hit one of the steps; you've got quite a pretty cut on your head. I'll clean it up for you."

"Herbert, ugh." But as Herbert continued lapping over the wound, steady rhythmic strokes, he forgot to keep complaining, and dozed off instead.

* * *

When he woke he was being smothered under a ton of rocks.

No – not rocks. Vampire. He was being smothered under a ton of _vampire, _cold and heavy and utterly, inhumanly still. He fought out from under Herbert's weight and then sat up. "Herbert?"

No answer. Herbert didn't even stir. It occurred to Alfred then that it must be daytime, and Herbert was unconscious. He shook him and rolled him onto his back to make sure.

When he did, though, he noticed a note pinned to Herbert's shirt, right over where his heart would be. He snatched it off and held it to a light. "_Not nice, Alfred,"_ he read aloud. He glared. "I wasn't going to stake you, you ass." Now he felt offended, and so he decided to do something mean while Herbert couldn't stop him. He hunted around for a pen and carefully inked him a big curly mustache and crazy, bushy eyebrows. "There."

Then he went to go deal with his _real _problems.

* * *

TBC.

FYI, Herbert's first aid knowledge was not so great here. When somebody has a concussion, you're *not* supposed to put them to bed. But fortunately nothing bad seems to have happened to Alfred, so that's ok.


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred had already had enough of notes for one day, but when he left Herbert's room the first thing he saw was another one stuck to the hallway wall in front of him. _Alfred: see to my guest's comfort – but speak to her at your own peril._

He crumpled it up and stomped off to find Sarah. He didn't have to hunt far; he ran smack into her on his way to the kitchen. "Alfred! Thank goodness." She actually looked happy to see him. She sounded so relieved that he felt himself starting to thaw…

Until she added: "I have no idea where to find breakfast. Will you show me?"

He ground his teeth and nodded, gesturing for her to follow him. He didn't talk to her – though it was less that he was concerned about von Krolock's note than that he might lose his temper and yell at her.

Finally she grabbed his arm. "Wait, would you? Slow down. Your legs are too long; you're making me run."

He shook free and slowed down.

"Thanks."

He just grunted.

At last, at _last _she noticed that something was wrong. "What's the matter with you today, Alfred? And look at your hair – why are you such a mess?"

"Because I spent the night in Herbert's room!" he burst out. "Why is that? Because I was mostly unconscious. And why is _that_? Because you _pushed me down the stairs_."

"Oh – that." She bit her lip a moment, then shrugged. "Sorry – it was an accident."

"You didn't even check if I was all right."

"The count said you were fine. I hadn't even realized you fell, honestly. He told me afterwards, when I was-…" She shrugged again.

Alfred frowned and forgot all about the stairs. "When you were what?"

"In the bath."

He watched her hug herself and shiver. "Sarah, did… something happen?"

She shook her head, then shrugged. Then nodded. "It's nothing," she said, and her voice cracked. She wiped at her cheek. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing! Sarah, did he _do _something to you? Were you bitten? You're so pale. Oh my god-…"

"It's _nothing,_ all right? Leave me alone." She shoved him, but it was weak and the effect was totally ruined by a big wet sniffle. She started walking again, and he followed her. "It's nothing. We quarreled, all right? We just… we quarreled." She kept walking, turned a corner and now they were going the wrong way from the kitchen but he thought it was more important not to interrupt her. "I mean, what happened is I was sitting there, all right, and he was sitting there, and at first he was- oh he was doing it on _purpose_, he may think I don't know that but I do. I'm not stupid, you know, Alfred, I'm _not_." She whirled around to face him, bright red. "I'm not stupid, or blind, and I'm not some farm girl who's never seen a man except her brothers and the goatherd next door! Fine – he _has _a castle! Fine - he dresses like a _prince_! Fine – he _does _dazzle me and _fine _maybe I have nothing to offer him that he hasn't seen before. But that doesn't mean he has to-… _ugh_!" She whipped around again and slapped the wall.

Now she was in a fine temper and Alfred still really had no idea what she was talking about.

"Ow," she whimpered, cradling her hand. His own hurt hand twinged in sympathy.

She was starting to leak tears again and he moved to stop her before it was too late. "Sarah- wait, come here. Shh." Before he could change his mind he reached out and dragged her in, hugging her with both arms. "Here, come on, it's all right." She was crying on his chest. He could feel his clothes getting wet _and now she was hugging him back._ Oh heaven.

He forced himself to pay attention. "I don't follow, still," he murmured over her head. "Something about quarrelling with farmers? Can you just tell me what happened? Maybe there's something I can do to help."

She snorted with laughter and finally managed a deep breath. "For a while were talking and he was _looking_ at me," she explained. "Sometimes splashing his hand in my bath and touching even. And…"

"And?" Alfred prompted, trying to sound calm.

"And he _knew _I wanted him, he made me want him on purpose, and then he kissed me on the forehead like a ch-ch-child and went away!" she wailed. "Oh it's so _humiliating _and how could he _do _that!"

He held her tighter. _Went away, _that was music to Alfred's ears. Although the fact that she was so upset about it was a little less than encouraging. "Shh," he soothed. "Look, don't cry. There are a million reasons why the count might have done that. I'm absolutely sure he didn't mean to offend you."

"He looks down on me."

"No he doesn't. He was probably just, you know, being a gentleman. I mean, we walked for _hours _last night, and it would have been rude to-, um, you know, to impose on you while you were exhausted. Right?"

She shrugged and sniffled again, but seemed to be calming down. "That _is _what he said," she admitted.

"See?" Alfred couldn't _believe _that he was helping her patch things up with his rival, but on the other hand, he didn't want her to be upset, either.

"But he treats me like a child."

Alfred finally dared to rub her back. She was so fragile! Oh he was going to _kill _von Krolock for upsetting her like this. "That's nothing. He does it to me, too."

"Really?"

"Yep – and anyway we _are _children compared to him. Don't forget, Sarah, he's a vampire and they live forever. For all we know he's hundreds of years old. Maybe thousands. And not bad-looking for a man that age, but…"

She stepped out of his embrace, laughing a bit, and wiped her face. "Oh, stop it. He is not _thousands _of years old."

He felt himself turning shy and stupid under her smile, and looked at his feet. A subject change was in order. "Uh, so… do you still want breakfast?"

She seemed to agree. "Mm-hm." She even perked up a little. "And then, I've explored a bit but you can show me around some more. So where are we?"

"Well, if we're looking for food, we turned the wrong way a few hallways back. Come on, it's this way."

She teased him for getting lost in his own castle, which delighted him and then he couldn't stop calling it _my castle _for the rest of the day.

* * *

He didn't leave Sarah's company until late afternoon, when it was time to make himself presentable and greet the count when first he rose. He was a little bit nervous – he wasn't sure whether he was going to get an apology for the stairs thing, or a punishment for having spent so many wonderful hours with Sarah. Or maybe both.

But von Krolock surprised him – he blinked at Alfred as soon as the coffin lid opened and gave him a small knowing smile. "How was your day?"

"What do you mean?"

"I suspect Sarah was markedly warmer towards you today than she has been in the past," he said smoothly. He climbed out of his coffin, helped Alfred close it, and headed for the secret stairway that led to his bedroom.

"That's right," Alfred said, following close behind him, groping his way up the terrible dark steps. "Um… Sir, how did you know that?" The space was small and airless, and his voice echoed too loud in it.

Von Krolock laughed softly and answered in almost a whisper. "A girl who has had her vanity wounded would find your devotion exceptionally attractive."

Alfred waited until they were in the count's rooms before hissing: "You mean you _knew _you hurt her feelings?"

"Of course. It was no accident."

"You mean-… but why?"

"For the reason I just gave you. I wanted to cheer you up after what happened yesterday evening, Alfred. I like you, and I wish I hadn't had to do you harm. You brought that on yourself." He gestured to his wardrobe and waited.

Alfred started dressing him, almost too angry to speak. "So- so I'm-… so I'm supposed to think," he stuttered, "I'm-... supposed to think it's _my _fault that you threw me down the stairs?"

Von Krolock sighed. "Dispense with the dramatics, please. I hardly _threw_."

"And then, and then I'm supposed to thank you?" he continued, hardly able to fasten buttons because of how hard he was shaking. "For hurting Sarah's feelings? Because you did it for me?"

The count swatted his hands away and closed his buttons himself; it was faster. "Not _only _for you."

"Well, why else? She doesn't deserve that!"

"It was also because I don't want her to remain blindly enchanted and besotted until the end of time," von Krolock answered coolly. "I plan to learn from her, and for that I need her fully in her right mind and exactly as she is: a selflish, thoughtless little child."

A loud gasp drew both of their attention. Alfred spun around, the count looked up, and they both saw Sarah back out of the room with one hand over her mouth. She turned and ran.

The count hissed with irritation, Alfred yelped her name, and they both took off after her.

* * *

TBC.

Aaaaand, the great big final shitshow begins at last. Here we go!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **My view of the vampire bite is that biting alone is not enough to change somebody. Otherwise, there would be *tons* more vamps around; a new one would get made every time somebody got hungry. And also, vK would have all his old Gier-girlfriends with him and wouldn't be so sad about them all being dead. Which, as we see, is not the case.

Also: thanks so much to you guys for your comments!

**Reve**: I'm glad you like my vK! I like him too. Even though he spends this chapter stomping around like a little baby because his plans aren't working out. (But yeah, I like him! Sadly, because the story went in a different direction than I was expecting, I ended up not using my favorite vK/Alfred scene at all. But since I really like it, I'll probably post it up afterwards when the story is done. Hope you enjoy!)

**Lady of Pride: **I kind of feel bad for Sarah too – she's out of her league when she's up against these vamps!

**erik'slittlebird: **I know, Herbert's turned out to be much less of an ass than I usually think of him. Weeeeeird.

* * *

"Wait! Let me do it," Alfred argued as they both struggled to get through the doorway at the same time. Von Krolock shoved past, ignoring him, so Alfred caught him by the back of his shirt and yanked.

It ripped to the waist. "Agh! Alfred!" He stood blocking the hallway so Alfred couldn't get past. "Now look! Get me something else to wear; I'm not going to chase a young lady guest with no clothes on."

"You don't have to chase her. Just get out of the way and I'll do it."

Von Krolock shook his head. "If one of us knows the castle well enough to play hide-and-seek in it, it is me. And if one of us can smooth things over with Sarah, it is also me. Get me clothes."

Alfred pretended to obey, and headed back into the count's bedroom…

And then, before he had time to think it through and realize it would never work, he made a mad dash for the secret staircase. He took the stairs blindly two at a time, but he wasn't halfway down to the crypt before the count caught up with him to snatch him by the collar. Again they heard cloth tear. Alfred squeaked _my shirt!_, but was completely overpowered by von Krolock's furious hiss: "How dare you, you disobedient little-!" A harsh yank. "Upstairs." He dragged Alfred backwards up the stone steps, bumping and scraping him along so carelessly that he was bleeding in half a dozen places when they hit the bedroom again. He tossed him to the floor.

"Get up. Get me clothes."

Alfred got to his feet, and took a prudent step back. "Ow. Okay. But listen-"

"Clothes!"

A shove sent Alfred reeling towards the wardrobe… but as soon as he caught his balance he turned back. "Count, _listen_," he insisted. Von Krolock's lip pulled back to show teeth, but even then he didn't back down. "Look, fine, yell if you want, but first _let's_ _go find Sarah,_" he said firmly. "The longer we wait the further away she'll get, and the more time she has to get in trouble. She's upset, she's not thinking, we have no idea what she'll do. Something could happen to her."

"Something could-?" It was more growl than speech, and Alfred noticed then that the count's eyes were glued to his bleeding scratches.

"Count! Focus." Alfred clasped his hands behind his back; the worst of the blood was coming from one of his elbows. He tried to sound calm. "Okay, I see that you're hungry as well as angry, but we still have to go get Sarah. All right? And then you can do whatever you want, I promise. You can even-" He clacked his teeth "-if you need to."

Von Krolock was taking deep deliberate breaths, and finally a bit of control returned. _Come here, _he beckoned, and Alfred edged forward just a little. "Are you really so panicked for her?"

"_Yes_," Alfred insisted. "You don't know her – she's crazy! She's probably run off into the forest already and for all we know, a, a wolf or bear or something is going to eat her. Count, please. Really. We have to find her. I'll worry until we do."

"Very well." Von Krolock moved fast. He tossed his ruined shirt to the floor and was already buttoning the last buttons of a new one before Alfred could even protest that they didn't have time. "Come," he said. He gestured between them. "We will discuss this later. Sarah first." He swept out of the room, fastening his cloak on the way.

"Thank you. _Thank you_." Alfred hurried after him.

* * *

But Sarah had no intention of getting eaten by a wolf, or a bear, or whatever. No thank you. She knew perfectly well it wasn't safe for her to go wandering in the woods; the first time she'd run off to come here alone, Koukol had met her halfway to escort her and she knew it was only pure luck that he'd found her before wild animals did. And just last night, she would never have made it without (silly!) brave Alfred beside her, letting her cling to him, holding a handsome little dagger and declaring in all seriousness _If anything comes, I'll hold it off and you get away._

The woods were not safe to wander alone.

Unless, of course, you happened to be a vampire. Because a lot of things were easier when you were a vampire. Including making yourself _seem _really romantic and passionate, when actually you were as cold as ice and...

She wiped her face but she _wasn't _crying again,no thank you to that either.

Crying was a waste of time, and Sarah had things to do.

* * *

Yum.

Herbert was having vivid dreams.

He'd gone to bed with blood in his mouth and Alfred in his arms, and after a long night of half-formed tasty dream images, the warm body in his arms was stirring and the smell of blood was heavy in the air.

He shifted and parted his lips; someone was pressing a cut wrist to his mouth and this was the realest, most delicious dream he had ever had – and obviously it was a dream because Alfred might like him a little but certainly nowhere near _this _much.

_Shhh_ he told himself and stopped thinking. If he woke up now it would really be a shame. Instead he abandoned himself to it and just lay still. Floating. Drinking. It was warm, delicious, he thought he might never stop.

"Herbert!" A terrifying jolt and someone was shaking him, waking him up.

"Nnn," he protested, but a soft slap convinced him to open his eyes.

"Herbert. Herbert, is that it? Or is there more?"

"Whuh?" he mumbled, and could feel himself drooling. He moved to wipe it, then stared at his hand. Even in the dim candlelight he could see that it was blood.

The count's little redhead was sitting on his bed, clutching her wrist to her chest, staring at him intently. "Is there anything more you have to do," she pressed, "Or is drinking my blood it?"

"Have to do?" he repeated, and sat up. "Drinking your blood?" He had no idea what she was talking about. Something tasted so good.

"Hello. Herbert." She was waving her unhurt hand in front of his face. "I want you to change me into a vampire. Did you? You drank my blood. Is that enough?"

"I drank your blood," he repeated blankly, and then put it all together in a rush. "_Oh dear God the count will kill me._" He scrambled away from her, crouched in the corner of the bed, covered his face. "Get away from me. Sarah, get-… get out of here, oh God this is bad, this is… _Sarah what have you done?_"

He looked up, and saw that she was swaying where she sat. "I told you what I did," she said, and her voice was shaking. "Herbert, I don't feel well now. Does that mean it's working?"

"No, it probably means you cut your wrist and now you're bleeding to death!" he snapped.

"_What_?"

"You can't just..." He gave up, shook his head, and fell back on: "Sarah, oh God."

"Well do something!" Now she was properly panicked, and her voice rose to almost a shriek. "Hurry up! Change me! What do you have to do?"

"I have to-… it's not-… oh God the count is going to kill me…"

She crawled towards him, unsteady, and he cowered. So she grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Blood was smearing everywhere. "He will kill you more if I die in your bed!" she screeched. "Change me now! Quick!"

He stared at her, still frozen. Horrified. _Die in your bed. _The count really _would _kill him if that happened. _Herbert, get ahold of yourself. _"You're right, you're right," he mumbled, nodding. "All right. Change you. I can do this, I can. Come here." He took her in his arms, hugged her close, and closed his eyes. "I can do this…"

"Do what?" she asked against his shirt.

"Shut up." He had to forget his terror, and forget this horrid little bitch, and get himself in the proper frame of mind. The count, he knew, could somehow get it up at will – he could change old people, ugly people, family members even… but for most, the vampire-making mood came naturally or didn't come at all.

But he could do this. Just this once, somehow, he would manage to force it. _Alfred. Think of Alfred_.

He let out a slow deep breath and thought of last night, remembered it long and hard, lost himself in the memory. Alfred cuddling against him, wriggling closer in his sleep. Giggling. His blood, the rasp of licking over his hair, the warm body relaxing as he-

"Herbert?"

"Shut up!" he hissed again, knowing he was almost there. A couple images of the little dear blushing, rolling his eyes, trying to sass. And then: bright red, chucking a tie at him _Doesn't it embarrass you to have to PAY for this?_

Ooh, and there it was. Liftoff. He knew it by the sudden tang in his mouth, and the overpowering urge to clamp down and _bite_, not even drink but just-…

He yanked Sarah by the hair to expose her neck and bit down, hard. He slurped at her a moment, sloppy, drooling into the wound. She gasped – the teeth hurt, after all – but he only stopped when he felt her jerk and spasm in his arms. _NO, _her body was saying. _DANGEROUS. DO NOT WANT. _

It was done.

"Ow," she moaned, weak. "Ow, Herbert please. Are you killing me?"

He shook his head against her. "No. Hush." He waited til he felt in control again; if he bit her again and started sucking more, he might well kill her by accident. "You'll be fine. I've done it." When he was calm, and his own sense of panic had faded and he was sure his head was clear, he pushed her away and laid her gently down on the bed. "You'll probably change fast because of how much I drank. Really, Sarah…" He shook his head and _tsk_ed at her. "It's polite to ask first."

Her eyes were rolling back, unfocused. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Then: "It hurts."

"Yes, it… tends to. From what I remember."

"It really hurts." She tried to swallow. "How long?"

"I don't know. How should I know?" He fussed with his hair. "Sarah, I've never even done this before! And the count is going to kill me for starting with _you_."

It seemed to take her all her energy to shake her head. "He won't know," she murmured.

"Ah yes, because _that's _going to work," Herbert scathed. "You can just pass yourself off as a human! Why didn't I think of that? I mean, in a few minutes you'll grow fangs and crave blood… and your body temperature will drop and you'll become violently allergic to sunlight… and that charming little heathen necklace you're wearing will burn right through your skin. But of course, I'm sure all of these things will escape the count's notice entirely!" She didn't answer. "Sarah?"

She was out cold, her body still as death while the poison did its work.

And Herbert was alone and covered in her blood, and expected in the study for chess within the hour. "Wonderful," he said aloud. "Just perfect."

* * *

TBC.

Next chapter we see why Alfred shouldn't have drawn that moustache. And the count gets his temper under control, and he and Alfred probably make up. Dunno, actually – I haven't written that part yet. But I hope they do.

Let me know what you think so far!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the delay; I've been busy eating turkey for like five days. Hope this chapter makes up for it!**

* * *

Herbert cleaned like a mad person, and showed up at the study almost on time, but nobody was there. Thank goodness! He left a note saying _Where are you, Daddy dearest?_ and rushed off to wait for his creation to rise.

When she did, the first thing she did was blink and say: "Herbert, what happened to your face?"

"My face?" he felt around but didn't understand.

"You've got- here. Somebody drew a moustache on you. It might have been there before, too – I wasn't really looking; it was dark."

"_What?_"

"A moustache. Right here. You didn't know?"

He covered his mouth, mortified. "Of course I didn't know!" he snarled through his fingers. "I can't use a mirror! Don't laugh at me, you little bitch! Get me some water so I can clean it off. Hurry up!"

Sarah grabbed him water from his nightstand and watched him scrub with a sheet. "Anyway, listen. I told you, your father won't know that you've changed me, because I'm going to run away. Strike out on my own. Nobody will ever find me."

"Have a nice trip," he snarled, still washing. "And don't come back."

"Herbert," she sighed, almost hurt. "Come on. Here – I'll do that. Hold still, will you?"

"Ow. _Ow. _What are you doing?"

"It's on your eyebrows too. Hold still. Who did this? Well anyway, I'm sorry I made you bite me in your sleep. I'm sorry, all right? But now I need your help. I don't know anything about being a vampire – how often do I eat, what must I avoid besides sun and garlic, that sort of thing. How long before, you know, teeth come and before I get hungry? And also, I have to make it somewhere safe before the sun rises. Should I try caves or something, or go to a village and hide in people's cellars? What do I do? You have to tell me where to go, and you have to lie to your father so he doesn't find me. You have to – it will keep _you_ out of trouble, too."

Herbert closed his eyes under the scrubbing. "The count won't like it if you vanish… but dear Alfred will be _heartbroken_," he murmured. "Positively destroyed."

"So?" Sarah growled.

He quirked his defaced eyebrows. "So, finish this up and we'll get you a warm coat."

* * *

Several hours later, Herbert thought everything was going all right. It was the first time he had tried really _lying _to the count, but it seemed to be working. "I could have _sworn_ I heard her sniveling her way along this corridor," he murmured, leading the way somewhere random. "I was on my way to meet you, Father, and I remember thinking: _that's odd, Sarah sounds quite upset._"

Alfred grabbed at his arm. "She didn't sound… wild, did she? I mean, she's not going to do anything stupid?"

Herbert shook him off and put his nose in the air. "She's a female, Alfred. A _human _female." He tried not to choke on the word. "Everything they do is stupid."

"Herbert," the count warned.

"All right, all _right._" Herbert paused by a staircase. "I think – I _think_ – I heard her go down that way. But I'm not sure, I wasn't really paying _attention._ She is, after all, a human female – and off-limits to me."

Alfred elbowed him aside and peeked downstairs. "_I'm _off-limits to you too, and that doesn't seem to have stopped you," he pointed out. "Come on – lead the way down here, or light the lights or something. I can't see in the dark; I'll fall."

"Silly Alfred," Herbert said, and made to take his hand, but the count had already breezed by them and they could hear his boots clacking on the stone floors below.

"She's not here," he called up. "And she hasn't been. The dust hasn't been disturbed for years. Herbert-" And then he was beside them again. "Where else?"

"I-… Um…"

All of a sudden his face gave something away, he felt it – and a moment later von Krolock had him by the collar and was lifting him clear up off the ground. "_Where is she?_"

"I- I don't…" He only kicked uselessly until the count chucked him to the floor.

"Whoa!" All of a sudden Alfred was between them. "Count, whoa. What's that all about? Herbert didn't _do _anything to her." He turned. "Did you?"

Lying to Alfred, oddly, was more difficult. "Well," he said.

He winced and closed his eyes, waiting for von Krolock to pounce on him again… but nothing happened, and eventually he opened his eyes to realize that the count was gone.

* * *

Alfred crouched down and tried to sound gentle. "Herbert, come on… What happened?"

"She was in my room," Herbert admitted at last. "He's probably gone to check… she's not there now, but he'll smell that she was before."

"Well… where is she now?"

Herbert shrugged. "She wanted to run away. I said I'd help her."

"Help her how? Where did she go?"

Herbert shook his head emphatically. "She needs to run," he said quietly, seriously, as he pushed himself up to sitting position. He locked his eyes on Alfred's and wouldn't look away. "To discover that the count doesn't love you is always difficult, but to learn it after you've committed to an eternity by his side is _brutal_. She did right to leave before he bit her."

Alfred's eyes widened. Did he mean...?

Herbert nodded.

"Wow… um, I'm sorry." Alfred helped him to his feet and helped him fix his jacket, which had ridden up his shoulders. "Herbert… Really."

Herbert snorted. "Look at you, all sweet and pitying. I should have told you a long time ago."

Alfred still didn't know what to say. "I mean… wow. But isn't he… is he even your father?"

"Define _father_." Herbert made a face. "Not that it would have mattered one way or the other; he comes from an era where men of his station have little to do with their sons in any case." He twirled his sleeve with even more flair than usual. "And I doubt _any _father would have wanted much to do with _me_, no matter when he lived, so…"

He still hadn't answered the question. Alfred heaved a sigh. "You're very frustrating, you know that."

Herbert smirked at him, looking a lot less serious now. "I pride myself." Then he peeked over Alfred's shoulder and waved. "Oh and dear Daddy has returned to us. Any luck?"

Von Krolock's face was dark. "Your room reeks of her blood," he growled. "What happened?"

"Nothing. It was her idea. And she's fine." Herbert examined his fingernails, defiant. "Cross my heart."

"Her idea _what_?" von Krolock pressed. "She offered you blood why? She doesn't like you. In exchange for something, then? So you would help her escape?" Herbert only shrugged. "So you would help her escape," he repeated to himself. "I see. Well. Now you'll tell me where you took her."

"Uh," Alfred spoke up. "Um, maybe we should… wait."

The count turned to him. "Wait?"

Until he thought through what he'd just been told, Alfred couldn't let the count get near her just yet. He fished for a reason. "Because… it's dawn in another hour or two. You can't go after her now anyway."

"_You _could."

"Well, yes, but… but as you said I probably can't smooth things over with her. I'll only scare her away faster. _You_ should go, first thing tomorrow night." He reached out and took the count's wrist. "Come on," he said, tugging gently. "We'll get you settled for bed, you'll get lots of sleep, and then when you rise your travelling stuff will be all set out and you can go right away."

Herbert nodded agreement. "Don't go now. She'll be easily to the village by now; I took her almost all the way there. And you don't want to get stuck _there _during the day. Somebody'll take a stake to you."

Von Krolock made a face but nodded yes. Alfred went to lead him away, but first Herbert blocked their path. "Alfred, you are such a sweet little boy," he said, and kissed him on the forehead. Alfred didn't like that Herbert had kissed him, or that there was something about Herbert's tone that disctintly said he meant something else by _sweet_. Like, maybe _gullible. _Or worse.

"Yeah. Night, Herbert. Er, morning. Whatever. Sleep well."

* * *

Alfred went through the bedtime routine mechanically, paying von Krolock no attention at all beyond what was necessary not to trip over him. He was too busy thinking of what Herbert had told him, and wondering why on earth he had been so silly as to take the count as his word when he said _Herbert's tastes are his own and I don't share them _so long ago. Of _course _the vampire didn't discriminate; he probably seduced everybody he could lay his hands on and broke all their hearts when he was finished, just for fun. In fact he-

"Alfred."

Alfred jumped.

"I think my hair is well and truly brushed by now – the parts that you haven't pulled out, at least."

Oops. Maybe he _had _been a little rough. "Sorry." He stepped back and dipped a neat little bow. "Is that it, sir?"

"Not quite. Come here." The count sounded amused… and even more amused when Alfred made no move to come closer. "Come _here,_" he repeated. "I don't bite." Alfred didn't even crack a smile, and tried not to flinch when von Krolock took him by the arm and stared into his eyes.

"What?" His voice squeaked a little. That stare was unnerving.

"Alfred, what did Herbert say to you?"

He shook his head and tried to look innocent. "Nothing."

"It's perfectly all right for you to talk behind my back; to be honest, it amuses me. So." The count let go of him and leaned back in his chair. "Please tell."

Alfred shook his head again, but his mouth was already opening. "Herbert told me that... that he and you, um-…"

The count's eyebrows rose slowly. "That he and I… ?"

"That he thought you loved him, until after he was bitten."

A long moment of silence. "Ah. Well, that's true enough. I told Herbert I wanted companionship, and apparently he mistook my meaning. We… quarreled." He chuckled regretfully and looked away. "Quite violently."

"Violently?"

"It's easy to underestimate Herbert, but he can be savage when he wants to."

"You mean…?"

"I mean he was beside himself with rage and it was incredible. I was well and truly overmatched." The count admitted it freely. "He threw me _through_ a wardrobe, among other impressive feats."

"Wow." Suddenly it was a bit harder to feel sorry for Herbert, and he started wondering what the count's side of the story was.

"Indeed." Von Krolock cocked his head, and before Alfred could ask any more questions about Herbert, mused: "As I recall, you promised me blood tonight. Didn't you?"

"Uh…" Alfred's hands suddenly itched to hold his collar closed. "You were terrifying before. With all due respect, sir, you were like a wild animal. Are you... all right now?"

Von Krolock waved it off with a graceful little gesture, as if that were the most outlandish thing he had ever heard. "Perfectly. Any harm I do you will be fully deliberate, I promise."

"Well that's reassuring," Alfred growled. But it was. And he knew what he owed, so he stepped forward and opened his shirt. "Be careful, though. If you slip up and infect me..."

"Ha! Do you imagine I _want _you around forever? You've commented more than once how convenient it is for me not to have a conscience. What kind of idiot would I be to make myself one on purpose?"

"I'm-...?" Alfred shook his head and tried not to enjoy the thought. "Then I must be the biggest failure ever," he grumbled, "Since you never listen to me."

Von Krolock glided around behind him and put hands on his collar. "Poor boy." He scraped Alfred's neck with his nails.

"Just go on," he said, doing his best to sound grumpy instead of flattered.

"Hush. Now that you've finally promised me a bite, please be so good as to let me enjoy it."

Alfred's stomach fluttered a little as he was touched, but he managed to cope with it calmly... until out of nowhere the count's arm shot around his waist and pulled him backwards. Now, held tight against the vampire's cool body while breath tickled over his neck, now he found his heart pounding. "What are you doing?" he squeaked.

"Fear is a delicious spice. I can taste your emotions, you know."

"Really? Is there one that turns your stomach? I could always- _OH OW_!" He sucked in his breath and held it against the pain.

This was it.

* * *

This was it. And it was oddly anticlimactic – just an intensely painful pinch on his neck, and a bizarre sucking feeling as the vampire drank. "_Ow,_" he breathed at last, squirming.

The count let go. "Here," he said, and touched a bleeding finger to Alfred's lips. Alfred had a lick, and then he didn't mind when the sucking started again. The powerful clamp of von Krolock's jaws _really _hurt, but now it actually felt kind of good too, and he relaxed into the arms around him. Eventually he felt himself lowered into a chair, but between the blood he'd licked and the blood he'd given, he was too woozy to help much. His head lolled to the side and he wanted to close his eyes. Someone's hand was against his cheek, holding him up.

"Alfred?"

"Mm, it's okay," he mumbled. It was nice to be touched, and with a sudden surge of strength he vaulted up to his feet and hurled himself at the person in front of him. "There," he said, locking his arms round its waist.

A soft laugh above him. Von Krolock's laugh, he knew, as his head started to clear. He realized he was practically limp on his feet, and the count was holding him steady, embracing him. "Sorry," he groaned, and made to stand straight.

"It's all right, more than all right." One hand shifted to the back of his neck to rub. "Hush. Dear Alfred. Are you well?"

"Mm." After a bit Alfred felt like talking. "So you bit me... That hurt. I almost said stop. What would you have done if I'd struggled?"

The count's grip turned harsh a moment and he growled. Then he cleared his throat. "If you are concerned about my self-control, we'd best not talk about that."

Alfred nodded and just tried to relax again.

He managed it for about two more seconds, before the door to the bedroom burst open and all possible hell broke loose.

* * *

TBC.

Dunn dunn dunnn! Sorry to cut off like that, but the next bit is looong and I didn't want to mush it on here. It should be ready soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Yes, this part is awfully short... but I have work I should be doing today, and I feel like procrastinating, so here's story instead!**

**JLG135 - haha originally I wasn't going to slash *anyone*, and now it seems I'm slashing everyone! Oops.**

**erik'slittlebird - close...**

**A Writer Lost-in-Thought - Originally I had a vk/A pairing, but then I started writing it and it started morphing into H/A, a pairing I don't like, and I've been trying to drag it back where it belongs. My muses are only somewhat cooperative though.**

* * *

It happened too fast for Alfred to really _see_. There was the stomping of something charging down the hallway, and a moment later the door was exploded open, and he just caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a glittering purple werewolf as it tackled him and dragged him to the ground.

He yelled _no _and tried to fight it off and yelled to the count for help, but the next thing he knew was the sharp pain of teeth in his neck again. "Stop it that's enough count _stop it_!" he shouted, and there was growling and yanking and fight, and the next thing he heard was Herbert's voice snarling _get OFF_ and the teeth were ripped away.

_Drink this._

He was trying to doze off, but the nudging just didn't quit. At last he opened his mouth and took a sip to quiet the person down. _More, have more, _the voice urged, but he was too tired to pay attention, and finally gave up.

* * *

"Alfred? Come on, drink. It will help you. Alfred? _Alfred_!" Herbert was torn between cradling him and shaking him, and started doing both at once.

"Enough. Useless," the count said from across the room. He was still lying there in a heap with the newest addition to his vampire family, arms and legs wound firmly around Sarah from behind while she fought and hissed like an animal.

Herbert barely spared them a glance. "It might help him get his strength back. He's cold. And weak. Look at him. He needs it."

"Herbert, I don't think he's going to live."

"Shut up. Shut your mouth, _shut it_, shut your cursed mouth!" Herbert stroked the cold face firmly. "He's going to be fine. Everybody gets bitten once in awhile. It's nothing."

"I'm sorry," the count said. "Surprise made me slow – by the time I was done staring at her she'd taken so much... And this after he had just finished with _me_. A boy can't survive that."

Herbert shook his head and hugged Alfred tighter.

Von Krolock shifted to hold his prisoner more securely. "Would you mind telling me what happened with _her_?"

Pracitcally vibrating with rage, Sarah finally pried his hand from off her mouth. "I could tell you myself if you'd let _go _of me, you beast," she snarled.

"You've killed a boy I almost call friend_._" Von Krolock didn't raise his voice. "If I do let go it will only be so that I can rip your head from your body. Be still, Sarah."

"I didn't do anything!" she protested, but stopped struggling. Soon she turned her face away from the scene in front of them. "Well I didn't mean to. I smelled it. Blood. And I couldn't... I mean, I just… I dug myself up and I went for it, I didn't even think to stop." Her breath was long and shuddery. "Did I really…?"

"Kill Alfred?" the count finished. "It appears you did. Dug yourself up from where?"

"What? Oh." She shrugged, and he loosened his arms a little to let her. "Outside. We buried me. In Herbert's warmest fur. I would have gone on to the village – after you'd finished searching it and gone away again. But-…"

"He's getting worse." Herbert spoke up at last. "He's hardly breathing. You have to _do_ something."

"There is nothing to do."

"You have to change him. I can't, I'm too nervous. You do it."

After a long silence von Krolock shook his head. "That would only replace one tragedy with another."

"_Tragedy_? How is-?"

"Because it isn't what he wants."

"So?"

"I won't change him against his will, Herbert. I think one child who hates me is quite enough."

Herbert rose to his feet and carried Alfred easily across the carpet. "Get up." When the count stood, Herbert elbowed Sarah out of the way and dumped Alfred into his arms. "Just do it. If you don't, we will lose him forever. He'll _die._"

The count shifted to settle the dead weight more comfortably, and tried not to pet. "He's told me a hundred times he doesn't want it. He won't thank us, Herbert. He'll be like you."

"I don't care." Herbert sniffed. "And anyway no he won't. We'll give him this silly cow as a plaything; it's all he's ever wanted." When Sarah sputtered with outrage he grabbed her and covered up her mouth. "Do it. Do it, I can _see _you want to do it."

Von Krolock closed his eyes a moment. "Let go of her," he said at last. "She couldn't help it. The thirst masters us all every now and then."

"This is no time to play philoso-"

"Herbert." The count silenced him with a word. "What fault there is lies with _you_; you let a hungry vampire near someone you care for and by all that's sacred I swear I've taught you better. In any event:" One more deep breath and then he passed Alfred back. "Hold him. You're right – I love him, for the moment at least, and I can't lose him. So." He opened wide and swooped down for one last bite.

* * *

TBC.

Poor Alfred! The next bit (short again, sorry!) is nearly ready and I'll put it up tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. In it, vK is even more of a drama queen than he was here... but that's just how he rolls, I guess.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I updated yesterday AND today, so make sure you didn't miss a piece!**

**Reve** – yeah this bit is mostly vK/A. Hope you enjoy!

**LadyofPride** - I PMed you... or tried, at least. Not sure I've got the hang of how PM replies work.

* * *

Alfred woke up to something really bizarre: it was dark – he was sure of it – but also he could see with perfect clarity the cascade of dark hair that was brushing over his face.

Hmm. That was von Krolock, and they were lying down, together, in each other's arms in the dark and he had no idea how they'd got here.

"Um," he said, and was amazed at how strange and hoarse his voice sounded.

"Oh Alfred," von Krolock murmured. _His _voice was even rougher, and cracked, as if he'd been crying. But still to Alfred's ears it sounded even more impossibly mellifluous than usual.

The pieces fell into place all at once. They were lying in a coffin, he could see in the dark and a vampire's body no longer felt cooler than it ought to. "NO!" he shouted, panicking. "No! What have you done to me what have you- let me out- stop it _let me out_!"

_Alfred, Alfred, _the count was trying to soothe, speaking directly into his mind because Alfred was screeching too loudly to hear aloud. His embrace was gentle but inescapable, and he was saying things like: _Please calm down, it's too late for that, I'm so very sorry, calm down and let me explain it to you._

Alfred could feel himself getting weaker. He was being smothered, not just by the count's body but also by some more powerful force, something invisible that seemed to sap the power out of every muscle all at once. "Stop it!" he rasped with the last of his strength. "Stop it, what are you doing to me? What are you…"

"Not me, Alfred," von Krolock whispered. Slowly and with great effort, he shifted his weight off Alfred's chest to uncrush him. "Dawn."

* * *

Alfred's sleep was deep, deeper than anything he'd ever known, and when he woke up again he felt much more lucid. He could feel from the stirring beside him that von Krolock was awake too. "You changed me," he said quietly, "After you swore not to. Before I go crazy: was it an accident?"

He could see the count shake his head. "No."

Alfred sucked in a huge breath, but oddly, no rage came. He just… couldn't believe it. "How? How could you?"

A strange feeling washed over him, a feeling of warmth and relief, and he realized almost at once that it wasn't his own. He was picking up the feelings of his coffin-mate – who was growing teary with joy that they were still on speaking terms.

For the moment, at least. "How could you do that to me?" Alfred repeated steadily, trying to ignore the arms that were creeping around him. The space was small and claustrophobic enough as it was, and a hug was not helping.

The count's words were muffled because he was hiding his face against Alfred's shoulder. "I would never have betrayed your trust, never. Believe that," he began. "Sarah burst in on us – she's been changed too, not by me and I'm so sorry you found out the way you did – and she bled you to the point of death. Still I would have respected your wishes – I tried – but Herbert…" He drew back as far as he could so they could make eye contact. "I am weak when I am tempted," he said at last. "I knew you didn't want to be changed, but I have great affection for you and when I thought about losing you I could not bear it. The fault is mine."

Alfred was nodding slowly, remembering bits and pieces of the scene now. That was _Sarah _who attacked him in a dirty purple fur, and Herbert,drawn by the commotion a few moments later, who pulled her off.

And that last bite, the one where someone held him by a fistful of his collar while he sagged and moaned _stop_…

"I changed you," von Krolock confirmed. "I pray it was not against your will. Forgiveness for such a thing is impossible… so I can only hope that this is what you wanted, and there is nothing to forgive." He waited.

But before Alfred could think about any of that, he wanted to finish putting together the impressions and memories that he had all jumbled. "Wait a second. Herbert was holding me," he recalled. "He was saying _I've got you _and things… saying he wouldn't let go… and then he was gone. What happened to him?"

Von Krolock's solemnity broke for a second and he made a face. "Ah. Well, he said- while I was… never mind," he ordered, and then turned quite prim. "We were living a moment of great and terrible significance and Herbert was not sufficiently respectful. So, I excused him, that's all."

All of a sudden there was a pounding on their coffin. "You _excused _me?" Herbert called from outside. "Well that's one way of putting it!"

Loud laughter. "We can hear you, you know!" Sarah added, mightily amused. "Why don't you just come out?"

Alfred was cringing down, feeling besieged and even more overwhelmed than before… until he noticed the look of absolute mortification on the count's face. It looked so silly that he had to snort a little. "Want to go _excuse _them again before we talk more?" he suggested.

Von Krolock bumped the heavy lid up with his back, reached up and slid it off. He hesitated a moment, still crouched over Alfred loosely, and said: "All I own is yours now, and no matter how you feel about me you may call this castle your home as long as you like. So: welcome home."

He rose and offered a hand to help Alfred sit up.

But before Alfred could take it, Herbert dashed forward and dragged him out with both arms. "Oooh, you're all right, thank _goodness_!" he gushed. "And looking quite well too. Did you know what I said, that got me thrown out earlier? All I said was, that I like his style and that the two of you made a lovely picture together."

"What you said was considerably more vulgar than that," von Krolock put in.

Herbert shrugged. "It was true, though. Now let's look at you!" He spun Alfred around. "Ooh, we like what we see, don't we, Sarah?"

At that Alfred pulled free. "Sarah!" He turned to face her. She had teeth. Oh god – _he _had teeth too; he could feel them with his tongue. Too much was happening at once. He wanted to hide behind someone, but he wasn't sure who, and he didn't know what to do.

"Go away," he choked out. "Just -… everyone."

Silence fell at once. Sarah looked surprised, Herbert looked hurt, but von Krolock nodded approvingly and gave a deep bow. "As you wish, Alfred. We will all be ready if and when you wish to speak to us. You two: come."

He swept out of the crypt and the others followed.

* * *

TBC.

And there we have vK at his most formal and dramatic. He'll loosen up though, as soon as somebody makes up with him. I mean, it must be hard to be in charge of a herd of immature vampires who are all mad at you to varying degrees and persist in trying to form love triangles and suck each other's blood. I kinda feel bad for the guy by now.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **And this is the end! It's light and fluffy, and the picture it paints is of a very chaotic and delightful vampire household. I have finals starting in a few days and I'm studying now, so I needed something happy for a change. I'm really glad you guys stuck with the story so far, and I hope it's been fun for you!

**Reve –** Awesome plot bunny. I didn't even think of the awkwardness fangs must present at first… but now I can't get it out of my head. That is *so* getting written at some point. Also: I agree about it being interesting when vK makes himself responsible for all the nutty vampires in the castle. I think it gives him something to do besides sigh and wallow – he can sometimes be animated and exciting, but the minute he has time to himself, he turns morose.

* * *

"Well," Herbert sniffed as soon as they were seated in the study, around the fire. "_Somebody _is a bit touchy this evening."

"He's probably just hungry," Sarah suggested absently, watching the firelight play over the count's hair. "We should get something to feed him." She got up from her chair and went to stand behind von Krolock's, and when he showed no signs of stopping her she put her hand on his head and stroked.

"_Oh_," she whispered in amazement – it was even silkier than it looked. Or maybe _all _her senses were heightened now. Taste certainly was.

The count chuckled and tilted his head to look up at her. "Poor Sarah," he murmured. "It's your first real night, and nobody's taking any care of you at all."

"Hmph." Herbert's chair clumped around to face away from them. "She decided to change herself, she can damn well coddle herself through it too."

"What's the matter with _him_?" Sarah asked, still combing with her fingers.

"He is worried for Alfred, I'm sure. As we all are." Von Krolock sighed and relaxed deeper into his chair. "You're right, Sarah. He should be fed. Otherwise, the first time he scents fresh blood…"

"Mm." Her hand stilled a moment. "Is he… going to be angry at me? I mean, of course I'll apologize, but…"

"He understands that you did not hurt him willfully. I think he will forgive us all in time."

She pried herself away from him – there would be time for this later. There was forever, now. "We should at least get him something to eat. Er- drink."

"Yes." She could hear the count rising from his chair, but she didn't turn to look because she knew it would only distract her again. "And it should be in a bottle; I doubt he shares the same affinity for the hunt as you, Sarah."

"Oh-! Don't tease me about that. I'm not proud of myself for being a savage."

He laughed softly and kissed her on the head from behind. "I am."

* * *

The minute they were gone, Herbert poked his head out from behind his armchair. "Oh Papa? Papa dearest? Are you still here?" He waited. No answer.

Perfect! He was on his feet and out the door in half a second, and went hunting for Alfred.

Finally he tracked him to a locked bedroom. "Alfred? It's me."

"Go away."

"Please?"

"Go _away._"

"I won't bother you. Please?"

The door yanked open. "_What_?" Alfred snapped. He was gratified to see that when he showed teeth, Herbert took a step back.

But he recovered quickly. "Where on earth is your cloak? You must be freezing in that."

"I'm fine," Alfred protested, but then a shudder overcame him and he realized he _was _freezing.

"You'll get cold easily, now," Herbert explained, breezing past him and into his room. "You should do like Papa and wear your cloak in the house. Or like me. Stockings are warm _and _they show off your legs. As you already know. You have a darling little pair yourself that you wear sometimes."

"What are you doing here, Herbert? You're not allowed in here."

Herbert waved that off. "Psh. The count and Sarah have gone off to get you a snack, now. You'll probably be less crabby once you've eaten. But in the meantime we can at least help you not shiver. Here it is. Try this."

It was Alfred's lovely grey cloak, and it was draped over his shoulders before he could even protest. He closed it around himself, cocooning up, and nodded. "Thanks," he said stiffly. He stared hard, and waited for Herbert to go away.

But Herbert made no move to go away. "You would have _died,_" he reminded. "Otherwise I wouldn't have. Cross my heart."

"I know. I know _this_ isn't your fault," Alfred said, gesturing up and down at himself. "It's not that."

"Then what is it? You look angry at me, dear."

Alfred waited, but when Herbert still didn't figure it out he finally burst out: "Sarah! You bit _Sarah._ You changed _Sarah._"

"Oh!" He looked startled. "But that's not my fault either. Didn't you know? She cut her own wrist and jumped me while I was asleep."

Alfred blinked. "_What_?"

"Mm-hmm. Quite a firecracker, that one. Papa's proud of her initiative, but to be honest, I feel a bit used." Alfred still couldn't find words, and eventually Herbert slipped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him towards the door. "Silly," he chided affectionately. "Why on earth would I want to bite a _girl? _Let's go back to the study now. The count will have my head if they come home and find me in here."

* * *

When they _did _come home, Alfred and Herbert were sitting on the floor by the fire – Herbert scooting closer and Alfred scooting away.

"Herbert!" von Krolock thundered. "Don't harass him!"

Alfred leaped up and stood between them. "Hey, don't yell at him!"

Sarah stepped in and shook him. "Alfred! Don't _defend_ him!"

The count put a hand on her arm gently. "Don't shove him."

By now Herbert was on his feet, and he drew Alfred away murmuring "Don't defy him" just as Sarah faced the count and insisted: "Don't baby him."

Silence fell.

Herbert cleared his throat. "Why doesn't everybody just mind his or her own business," he suggested at last. "Did you bring Alfred a snack?"

"We did." Von Krolock showed them a bottle under his cloak. "Escort Sarah out of here while he eats, please. It seems she can't yet control herself in the presence of fresh blood."

"Count!" Her cheeks flamed. "I asked you not to tell anybody!"

Herbert begged with his eyebrows for the story.

"It was unbelievable – I turned my head for _one moment _and she was upon them. I barely managed to pry her off in time from these poor-"

"Count! I'm working on it!" She flounced out and Herbert followed.

* * *

When they were alone, Alfred reached at last for the bottle. "Thanks."

Von Krolock turned away while he drank. "It occurred to us that you might not yet wish to feed from a living person. If ever you do want to, I will be more than happy to accompany you, to make sure no harm comes to the person. Or to you."

His stomach twisted a little at the idea. "Thanks, but… I'm fine with a bottle for now." When he was finished he sat down on the floor again, by the fire, and was a little surprised when the count folded himself down gracefully beside him.

"How are you?"

Alfred shook his head. "_Tragedy _is right. I hate it that-…" He didn't finish it aloud – he was afraid he was going to cry, and anyway there was too much to say. He hated that he could never see the sun again. That he had to drink people's _blood _to stay alive. That he was never going to grow any taller. That he could never make friends again, that he belonged in a coffin, that he could never go to church again because even God Himself couldn't bear the sight of him.

He took a deep breath. "It's awful," he continued after a moment, "It is. But I don't blame you. And I don't blame anyone for Sarah, either – Herbert told me what happened." He almost laughed. "That's so like her."

"Yes." He laid an arm over Alfred's shoulders and pulled him in to rest his head. They stayed quiet for a while, thinking dark thoughts, until Alfred began to wonder if maybe he had inherited some of this melancholy directly from its source. Perhaps it would have been better to let Herbert bite him after all…

They didn't move until a loud knock disturbed them. "What's going on in there, children?" Herbert called. "Do we need to send in a chaperone?"

Von Krolock snorted softly. "Listen to that. They're jealous – both of them." He smirked, and the hint of mischief in it was infectious.

"Lie down," Alfred whispered. "Might as well give them something to be jealous of." Before the count could stop him Alfred climbed into his lap and pushed him down on his back. He tore his own shirt open and mussed up his hair.

Laughing, but silently, von Krolock reached up and pulled Alfred's face against his neck. Alfred hesitated a moment and then got up the nerve to try out his brand new teeth.

"We are busy," von Krolock growled loudly.

When the door flew open, Alfred released von Krolock's wrists and sat up, wiping his mouth. The count lifted him off and they stood in hurry.

"I said busy," von Krolock panted, wiping at his neck. "What do you want?"

"I… we…" Herbert and Sarah looked at each other, mouths still wide open.

Alfred tried not to laugh. "Weren't you the one saying we should all mind our own business, Herbert?"

"I meant for you to mind _your _business or maybe mine but certainly not _his_!" Herbert sputtered.

Sarah seconded him. "Exactly! And _you_, you never let _me _do that. Hmph!" She gave the sauciest hairtoss Alfred had ever seen. "You see if I ever offer you my neck again!" She turned up her nose and stalked out.

"She does love her dramatic exits." Von Krolock nudged Alfred, chuckling. "Go on after her."

* * *

Alfred closed the door behind him and chased. "Sarah! Wait. He was only playing."

"I know." When she turned to him her eyes were glittering and wicked. "Oh, Alfred, isn't it wonderful! Look at them tease us – and they are _desperate _for us too. Isn't it fun?"

"Fun?"

"Isn't it?"

He blinked. "Well… yes. But I'm still… I'm still not used to it, Sarah. Give me time. It's different for me."

She nodded, sobering up immediately. "I'd forgotten – you didn't plan on this. Look… I'm sorry. I really am, Alfred, it was an accident."

"I know."

"And I wish…" She slipped her hand in his and tugged him away down the hallway, away from the study so they wouldn't be overheard. "Well, no, I can't say I wish it had gone differently; I like having you here. But I feel _terrible _that you're upset. When I… did it…"

He could feel her squeezing his hand, and he stopped and made her face him. "When you did it what?" he pressed, gently.

"I felt… I mean, I could feel that you were afraid," she admitted. "I knew I was hurting you, but I couldn't stop… I feel awful about that, I really do."

"It's all right – it's not your fault." She really did look sorry. She really did look like she cared. It's too bad it had cost him his _life _to make her feel that way.

"I do care, Alfred." It was like she was reading his mind. "And I really do want you to be happy. I hope you will be."

She stepped close and let him gather her into a hug, hold her tight. Eventually he said into her hair: "I'm in love with you."

"I know, I know. You've _said._" Now she sounded a little impatient. She did hug him back, though.

When she started getting restless he let go right away – he _didn't _want to be Herbert. He wondered if it would be all right to kiss her hand.

But that turned out to be a moot point – Sarah touched his face and said: "You've got blood on your mouth. Mind?" and pulled him down to kiss it.

Alfred squeaked and gasped against her lips and had hardly got together enough to kiss back when she drew away. "Mmm," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He licked his lips. "Sarah, you're terrible. That's cruel and you are terrible."

"Should I stop?"

When he couldn't answer, she laughed and took his hand. "Come – let's go claim the count's coffin. Then they'll both have to sleep in Herbert's."

He let her lead him to the crypt, and climbed in beside her. She was giggling about what the count would say when he found them, and Alfred thought again that she really _was _terrible. But then, as they settled down, she slipped her arms around him and said, "I'm glad to have you with me, Alfred," and then he wasn't sure.

* * *

A while later, the von Krolocks were trying to cram themselves into Herbert's coffin together. "Move over," the count growled.

"Since when do you sleep on your back?" Herbert complained. "You used to be much easier to share with."

"Perhaps you were slimmer back then."

"Now, that's low." Herbert tried to sound aggrieved. "It's not enough you've gone and _stolen _my lover, but now, here in my own coffin, you insult me too!"

"I haven't stolen him and he's not your lover." Von Krolock at last shifted to lie on his side. Herbert stuck out his tongue and turned away, so they were lying back-to-back. "I mean it. You, Herbert, have singlehandledly scared me away from men forever. I have no interest at all in Alfred. Truly."

"Hmph," said Herbert, but he turned back to spoon against the count from behind.

"Is that really necessary?"

"It's more comfortable," Herbert insisted. "The other way I was banging my face against the wall."

"No, I'm referring to th- _yes, that_." Von Krolock pried the hand out from under his shirt. "How many times must I remind you..."

"But _Daddy_…" he whined.

"...That that is obscene."

Herbert did his best to sound innocent. "Is that what you'll say about Sarah too? After all, you're her grandfather now."

"Herbert! Be still."

Herbert managed it for hardly two seconds. Then: "Your coffin really is bigger than mine, isn't it."

"Are you _incapable _of being quiet?"

"All this harassment is for your own good. If I'm quiet, you'll only use the silence to brood."

After a long moment with no answer, Herbert pressed: "See? You're turning sad already, I know it."

"Of course I'm sad! The poor boy."

Herbert heaved a sigh. "Try and see the bright side. That _poor boy _is going to live forever. And he is currently sleeping in a castle, in the master coffin no less, with the love of his life."

Von Krolock didn't answer.

"Alfred probably planned this whole thing from the start."

...

"_HERBERT I CAN HEAR YOU OVER THERE. AND NO I DIDN'T!"_

* * *

**The End.**

I will be putting up one more chapter – a scene that somehow never made it into the final story, even though it was the very first thing I wrote for this fic and I really like it. So, it'll go up as a Deleted Scene sometime soon. But otherwise, this is the end.

Thanks for reading, everybody! And I really, really appreciate the comments. You guys are great!


	15. DELETED SCENE

**DELETED SCENE.**

This takes place sometime before Sarah's arrival, when vK is still so excited to have a human in the castle that he spends his time studying Alfred like a bug in a jar. He (at least partly) believes that his fascination is entirely scientific.

* * *

"Alfred, come here."

Alfred followed him through the corridors, knowing better than to ask questions. If the boss was in the mood to share information, he would. If not, then not. Von Krolock took him to the front hallway, up to the big front door itself and used all his weight to heave it open.

Alfred yelped in surprise and shrank back from the gust of freezing, snowy air…

But suddenly von Krolock had him by the arm. "Sometimes I like to remind myself how fragile you are," he explained. He shoved hard and the next thing Alfred knew he was shin-deep in snow and the door was closing behind him.

"No-!" he turned but the wind held him back long enough for the great door to creak shut. "_No, _no you can't! You can't! Let me in!"

A shiver tore through him so violently that he bent double, hugging himself. "N-n-n-no," he repeated against his knees, shaking, squeezing, as if this simply _couldn't be_.

The terrible cold ripped at his back, his shirt no protection at all. He might as well have been naked. The wind was so sharp it hurt, his ears were throbbing. He held his breath, closed his eyes, _knew _he would have to get used to this soon, or go numb, or _something._

But he didn't, and the cold continued.

As the second breath seared its way into his lungs, he knew he would have to move. If he didn't move he would faint. He couldn't stand, but he crawled the few feet through the snow to the door again, pressed himself against it. "Hello – _hello_! Count! Help me!" He pounded on it with his fist, but he could hardly hear the noise himself and he knew that not one bit of it would penetrate the thick wood. "Please," he whispered.

Against the door there was at least less wind. He turned and pressed his back against it, flat, as hard as he could. His hands and feet were stinging already, freezing. His ears had gone numb, but he could feel his nose was running and he moved to wipe it.

The best thing to do would be curl up in a little ball and save heat as best he-

"VON KROLOCK! LET ME IN!" He was up and banging on the door again before he could stop himself. "_You have to let me in!_" He told himself he had to stop panicking. He had to stop wasting his strength. And he had to stop crying; it was making him gasp and gasping hurt. The air hurt. The air was too cold to breathe.

As soon as he could get a handle on himself he stopped pounding, and made himself run in place instead. _Warm up, warm up, get warm, _he ordered himself, but before long he decided it wasn't working. He sat down again, squashed in a corner of the doorway where the wind wouldn't get at him, and pulled his knees up to his face. He wrapped his arms around them and breathed into his lap, where the air at least wasn't cold enough to hurt his lungs.

It finally occurred to him to wonder what on earth von Krolock thought he was doing. "I'm going to die out here, count," he muttered aloud, and wondered if the count could hear him.

Eventually he realized he was hardly breathing. It was just too cold.

* * *

Bright light woke him and he flinched away. He couldn't feel his body. "_Ah_," he managed, but groaning was the best he could do.

"How are you feeling, Alfred?"

He realized he was being carried, he was in the house, and he still couldn't feel his body. "B-b-b." He was shaking, violently.

"I'll take you to a fire."

Alfred tried to pass out again but he was awake now, awake for every miserable bumping second as they made their way towards a fire that was too bright and seared his skin painfully. "Nn." He jerked away.

"Very well." Von Krolock dumped him out on the floor and took off his own cloak to drape over him. "Better?"

Alfred clutched it around him but it didn't seem to be helping. After a moment von Krolock sighed and took the cloak away again, to hang it over the mantle instead. "Give it a moment, it will warm up. Here – in the meantime, drink this."

Alfred blinked but the light was too bright to make out the detail of whatever was being held to his face. There was liquid against his lips and he pulled a sip… then choked and sucked harder.

But all too soon von Krolock yanked free. "You're welcome," he said coolly, holding his bleeding wrist to his chest. "Here – try the cloak now."

The blood was moving through him, making everything he saw and heard and felt ten thousand times more intense… this might be the most he'd ever had, it was certainly the most _strange _it had ever made him feel, and he- "_OH!_"

The overpowering heat of von Krolock's cloak washed over him, through him, warming him to his bones for one long perfect second. "Oh Jesus sweet Jesus. Sweet _Jesus_." He wrapped up tight, lightheaded, willing the feeling to stay. That was the single best moment he had ever experienced in his life, ever.

He craved more now. And he was cold again – he knew he was dismally, miserably cold, but at least his body was working again and his mind clear. He wriggled closer to the fire, feeling it warm him normally… but still he remembered that one second of molten paradise and _needed _it again. "Count," he croaked. "Once more."

Von Krolock turned to face him and his lips curved into a slow smile. "No."

"Count- please. Please, I need it. Look at me. I almost died."

"I know. It's lovely and I want to enjoy it." He looked up, over Alfred's head, and barked, "Koukol: tea."

"T-t-tea? Tea, _fuck_ tea!" Alfred snarled. He licked his lips. "I need your blood."

"Poor thing."

Alfred tried to move and almost made it to his knees. "Give it to me. Give me or I'll kill you!"

Von Krolock sighed, completely unimpressed by his rage. "The thirst is terrible, I know that," he soothed. "For you it will pass in a few moments. Consider yourself lucky."

"Count…" his voice had dropped; the violence was too exhausting and now he was pleading instead.

"Hush." Von Krolock knelt down by him, but pinned him to the floor by the neck so that he wouldn't get any ideas about snapping and biting. "A few drops would have been enough to revive you. This is my fault – I cut too deep. I was worried about you."

Alfred tried to take a deep breath and calm down, but when he did he realized his vision was blurring and he was about to cry again. "What's happening to me?" he whispered.

"It will pass."

"… Fuck," he moaned as his head spun.

Von Krolock laughed softly. "You have quite a mouth on you tonight, Alfred."

"Sorry."

For a while he just lay still and listened to the clock. Its ticking seemed to get louder and louder, echoing, until the seconds ran together. _Tick(ickickick)tick(ickick)ticktick… _Wrong. He scrunched up his face and paid full attention to the sound, willing it to even out and make sense again. _Tick… tick… tick…tick… _Eventually he thought he was getting somewhere.

"Feeling calmer yet?" the count said at last.

Alfred shook his head. He still felt restless and ill at ease and _greedy _in some way… but now the idea of drinking blood was kind of gross again and he was starting to feel odd about having wanted it so badly. And his head was still spinning.

"Warmer?"

"No. Not yet."

"Ah – tea. Here, sit up."

He did, carefully, and began to sip. "I feel ill. I'm going to be ill, count."

"Mm."

"Why? Why did you do that to me? What did I do to make you angry?"

"Nothing."

Alfred frowned at him. "Nothing? You mean you almost just killed me _for no reason_?"

Von Krolock shrugged. "I told you, Alfred," he purred, kneeling down beside him again. "Sometimes I just like to notice how fragile you are. It's… interesting."

"_Interesting?"_ Alfred shuddered and moved away, dislodging the count's hand from his neck. "Do you have _any _idea what that was like?" No answer. "And you don't care. Count, that's… There is something… deeply wrong with you."

Von Krolock only smiled.

"That's not _right_! Don't you feel it? I'm your-… I don't know, I'm almost your _friend, _you can't treat me like I don't matter. That's so wrong. It's not… human."

He laughed outright, and Alfred finally gave up on trying to make him understand. They sat in silence for a while, the count watching avidly as he sipped at his tea and clutched the hot cup. Then: "Let me see your hand."

"No. Why?"

"Come - foul language is one thing, but..." He gestured sharply.

Alfred bit his lip and finally extended his hand. He sucked in his breath hard when von Krolock touched him, tracing designs in his palm with one long fingernail. Eventually von Krolock murmured, "I can feel the heat coming off you."

"Wonderful."

"It's so strange to think how quickly you can go from healthy, to dying, to healthy again. Isn't that amazing to you?"

"Sure," Alfred snapped, though he didn't quite dare pull his hand back. "It's a _fucking_ miracle. Only I could do without so much firsthand experience."

He had gauged his boss's mood right, it seemed… or perhaps he was just too worn-out to care and had gotten lucky. Von Krolock didn't seem offended. He chuckled and set Alfred's hand back down in his lap.

"Don't you _care _how upset you've made me?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"Aarrrgh! Count! Listen." He turned to face him, but the movement dislodged the cloak from his shoulders and the sudden chill made him shake and he sneezed, loudly, spilling tea everywhere.

"Bless you."

"Sorry." He sniffed.

"Psh. Koukol? Clean this up." And he reached out to pat Alfred with a gesture that if Alfred didn't _know _better would have seemed kind.

He sniffed again. "I hate you."

"That's fine." Von Krolock watched him shake. "More tea?"

* * *

**The End.**

Hehehe I think junkie!Alfred is really cute.

As I said, this is Finals season. Euw! So, in order to waste time instead of studying, I may be posting a new story in the next couple of days. Stay tuned...

And let me know what you thought of this! I'm glad you stuck with it til the end.


End file.
